


I thought it was for suckers...I never really knew

by HedasGonna_hey_duh



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anya & Lexa (The 100) Are Siblings, Bisexual Raven Reyes, Clarke Griffin & Raven Reyes are Best Friends, Commander Lexa, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Introspection, Multi, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin are Best Friends, Raven Reyes stirs shit up, Sassy Raven Reyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 89,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedasGonna_hey_duh/pseuds/HedasGonna_hey_duh
Summary: Lexa is focused and structured, Clarke is trying some self-improvement and wants to need no one.  Both are jaded, intelligent, and hold back too much.  Its a slow burn and we'll see where it goes.





	1. Everyone sucks...but what is happening

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Clexa fic and I am way out of practice with writing. Hope it does not disappoint.

Lexa gasps for breath as she finally slows to a walk on the track. It had been half a mile more than she ran last time but she is still annoyed with herself for stopping. Unfortunately, she would already be cutting it close on time. She has to clock in in 15 minutes and she wouldn’t even have time to shower, at this rate. Her breath is labored but it settles after a few minutes of walking and she is able to take in her surroundings and center herself. She walks next to the rail around the inner part of the track. The track, about twice the length of a standard track, is basically just a wide walkway that makes up the top level of the building and encircles the gym equipment area on the next floor down. Below, she watches gym patrons lift weights and jog on treadmills, rolling her eyes at some particularly douchey looking “bros” flexing at themselves in the mirror. She prefers running outside, on nature trails or quiet neighborhoods usually, but she likes the way the track is set up here. She feels somehow less like a hamster on a wheel than she does on a normal track. The set up allows her to people watch at a distance and feel a little separate from it all; a little above it all.

When her breath has slowed enough, she makes her way down the stairs that lead to the second level of the gym and into the employee locker rooms across the atrium. Luckily, she finds the room empty and revels in the silence as she towels herself off, adjusts her hair, and throws on her work shirt; a green V-neck with the words Grounder Fitness on the breast pocket. She glances at the clock. _Shit_. She has two minutes to make it to the front desk. If she had a personal training session, she would not be as concerned but she is taking over the front desk duty for Anya for the first hour and she knows she will pay if she shows up late. She runs some deodorant under her arms, looks in the mirror, and shrugs. One of the perks of working at a gym is that you are usually going to sweat anyway, so you don’t need to stress as much about being powder fresh. She has looked worse after a workout and she is actually impressed by how she got herself together in such a short time.

_Probably just means you didn’t push yourself enough today._

She rolls her eyes at her internal voice and kicks herself again for putting off her paper until so late the night before, oversleeping, and finding herself in this rushed state. Lexa is usually very organized, structured and punctual, but she went out for a drink with Lincoln and Anya to celebrate the first official year to make a profit on the gym. It had been tough at first.  After Lincoln opened the gym, he barely broke even for a few years, but he had worked himself nearly to death and things were actually going really well now.

After dinner, she made the mistake of accepting the challenge of a game of pool, and her competitive streak punished her again. Before Lexa knew it, it was 11 and she had to go home and write her paper until 3, when she was finally able to sleep.

 _At least I won_. She smiles to herself.

As she rounds the corner to the front desk, she sees Anya staring blankly at Carli, the bleach-blonde new-hire, who is prattling on about something that Anya clearly could not give two shits about. Anya sees her approaching and immediately walks out of the “conversation”, glaring in Lexa’s direction.

“You’re late.”

“I’m not. It is 11:30. I’m right on time.”

“You are supposed to be her the second it turns 11:30. Right now its…Oh! Look, its 11:31!”

“Calm down.” It’s a risky phrase to use at this juncture, knowing Anya’s temper, but it works out.

Anya’s expression becomes slightly more pained than angry as she lowers her voice. “You know that I fucking hate dealing with the front desk. People are idiots and the company is…”she glances over towards Carli, who is flirting with a new customer, “less than desirable.”

Lexa smirks. Anya’s words are innocent enough, but her tone is dripping with disdain and conveys something closer to _fucking idiot_ or _worthless dumbass_. She sympathizes and feels a little guilty. Anya was out late, too, and had to be here early so she probably got just as much sleep as Lexa. Neither of them is too fond of front desk duty and Carli does not make it more enjoyable. But, for now, until Carli gets the hang of everything, everyone has to work at least an hour of their shift there. And though they were, for all intents and purposes, Lincolns sisters, he didn’t want to show favoritism.

“Well, I’m here. Go on. I think I saw your 11:45 client looking for you around the rowing machines. He looked a little nervous.” She gave a knowing smirk.

“Ah ha, this is when my day gets good.”

“You are evil.”

“Why? They come here to get their asses kicked into shape. I’m just enthusiastic about my job.”

“Right. I think you enjoy the ‘ass-kicking’ a little too much.”

Anya just shrugs. “Hey, we’ve all got our gifts.” With that she saunters off, a little more pep in her step. Lexa just smiles and shakes her head. Anya could be tough as hell with her clients, but she did get results…if they didn’t quit after the first session, that is.

She walks up to the chair that Anya was previously occupying and sits down. Carli, who has finished with her customer, eyes her.

“Hey Lexa, how’s it going?” She gently touches her arm. Lexa turns away from her, with the excuse of powering up the computer, and maintains her stoic expression, trying to keep her eyes from rolling. Ever since Carli got wind that Lexa liked girls, she has been flirting and fishing hard for compliments. Lexa doesn’t even think Carli is into girls, but Carli sure does like attention and that is something Lexa rarely gives anyone. Objectively, Lexa could admit that Carli was okay to look at, but her personality was absolutely awful and Lexa was never good at separating those two things when she sized someone up. The second most people spoke, Lexa was over it.

“It’s going okay.” Lexa immediately busies herself on the computer, looking for any administrative stuff she can distract herself with for the next hour until someone else relieves her. Luckily, since they hired Carli, someone just needs to be here to make sure things are running smoothly and answer any questions outside of what Carli has learned about operations. Lexa enjoys that this arrangement keeps her interaction with people to a minimum.

“So, I got that guy to get a premium membership just now. Worked some magic.” Though Lexa is not looking at her, she is certain she can hear a wink.

“Great. Well, done.” It is said with no enthusiasm, but Carli latches onto it.

“Yeah, I am so glad I got this job. It is, like, really easy for me to hook these guys. I don’t know what it is…”

Lexa wants to snap at her and tell her that it is her job to provide people with an opportunity to better themselves, not to trick them into paying for a membership they will never use, but she resists. It is always good to get the premium memberships, for the sake of business, but she hates how Carli is making it all sound so devious.

“Who knows?” Lexa has to hold in her smile, because Carli seems a little hurt that Lexa didn’t offer up any suggestions as to why she was so good at “hooking” them. Lexa takes some satisfaction in Carli’s reaction. Shallow people grate on her nerves and Carli is a perfect example, with her constant baseless bragging and that stupid fake smile she gives to customers. That smile annoys Lexa to no end. Lexa, herself, very rarely smiles at customers. Lincoln has actually complained to her about that, but at least she is not being fake. She doesn’t even think she is capable of faking a smile like that. Carli, however, lays the charm on thick and, according to Lincoln, _“it’s good for business.”_ Probably because Carli is not the only shallow person in the gym. This place is covered with people obsessed with their bodies who think happiness and meaning are going to come in the form of toned abs and 2% body fat.

_The nature of the job, I suppose._

Lexa almost feels hypocritical because she enjoys what the gym has done for her health and her body, but she has always been more focused on feeling strong and being healthy. The body-image obsession infuriates her. She has found that, perfect body (whatever that means) or not, most people just suck.

She has finally found a list of lapsed clients that needs to be taken out of the database to busy herself with, when she hears Carli greet new customers with an overly-friendly voice. “Hello, how can I help you?”

“Um, I, uh, wanted to sign up. For the gym. I mean, a membership? Sorry, I don’t know how this works. I’ve never really been to a gym.” Lexa stirs at the voice. It’s a little raspy and, somehow, very eloquent, despite the slight stuttering. She raises her head a little to see over the monitor she has been hiding behind and sees blue eyes looking in the direction of Carli and a small, kind smile curving up the corners of the girl’s mouth. The girl has her blonde hair up in a bun and looks a little nervous.

Lexa watches (and feels her heart drop?) as the girl’s smile falters and her expression grows a little defensive. She looks at Carli to see why and sees her looking up and down the girl’s form with her eyebrows raised as if to say _‘I can see you don’t go to the gym.’_ And Lexa cannot account for the way her blood boils.

Carli, completely oblivious, spreads that fake smile across her face, saying “Let me just grab the application and I’ll need a form of ID.” Lexa is surprised when the girl says nothing and, with a defiant look, slams her ID on the counter without a word. Carli grabs it and hands the girl an application. “Just fill this out and we can get you started.” She hands her a pen and goes to office behind the counter to grab some of the gym brochures.

Lexa has forgotten her mindless task and is furtively watching the girl fill out the application. She can still see the fury behind the blonde girl’s eyes as she fills out the form in front of her. Her brow is furrowed and, while she is filling out the form quickly and without apparent trouble, it looks like she is simultaneously thinking up a storm. Lexa can almost see her thoughts racing behind her eyes. The girl’s jaw clenches and a wisp of hair falls over her face. Lexa traces it with her eyes, letting them trail over smooth skin and the soft curve of her jaw. Suddenly the girl’s eyes snap up and she is looking directly at Lexa and Lexa feels her heart stop. _Busted._

But the girl only looks for a second, and then she is back to the form, not looking back at Lexa or changing her facial expression in the slightest, as if she hadn’t even seen her. Just as she finishes up the form, Carli is back with the brochures. She takes the form and looks it over, typing some information into the computer.

“Okay! So Ms. Griffin, which membership would you like to sign up for today?” Carli begins to explain each membership level and Clarke is listening intently, trying to take in all of the information. Suddenly Carli begins to speak in a more cloying tone. “I, however, recommend the Premium membership. It includes all of that, plus access to our nutritionist, free visitor passes, and access to your own locker. That one will have ANYONE in beach ready shape in no time.” Her emphasis on the word ‘anyone’, and the pointed look she sends in the girl’s direction seems to hits a nerve in Lexa.

“Carli.” Her tone is authoritative and she tries to keep her anger in check. “Go see if you can find some more brochures in the stock room. We’re getting low up here.”

Carli looks very surprised at Lexa’s words, and takes a second to register them. “But…I’m helping a customer…” Her confusion is evident.

“I will finish up with her. Go. Now.”

Carli seems caught off guard. Maybe because she has never seen Lexa volunteer to help a customer, much less do so in the middle of Carli’s membership sale’s pitch. Or maybe because this is probably the most Lexa has ever spoken to her. Either way, she seems intimidated enough by Lexa’s tone to hurry away. “Okay…I’ll be back…”

Lexa sighs as she walks over to the space Carli was just occupying and glances at the application. _Clarke.  Clarke Griffin.  Good name._  “So, Ms. Griffin, which membership would you be interested in signing up for?” She wants to apologize for Carli, tell Clarke that Carli always flirts with guys and shames girls for membership bumps, but it’s not really Lexa’s style. She’s not even sure why she made Carli leave. Normally when she overhears the snotty comments, she just ignores them and counts down the time until she can leave the hell that is the front desk.

_Maybe it was just one too many. That must be it._

Clarke’s brow is still slightly furrowed as she contemplates, glancing up at Lexa, before glancing back down at the brochure with the prices and amenities list. “I think I’ll stick with the basic one.”

“Okay then.” Lexa begins to put the information in the computer. “If you do want a personal trainer session or to attend a class, or anything else, just come to the front desk and you can pay for it separately.” She chances a glance at the girl while she is typing and sees that she still has some of that anger in her eyes and is looking questioningly in Lexa’s direction. It honestly makes Lexa a little nervous. Possibly as an attempt to deal with this feeling, she leans slightly over, lowers her voice and says “this is honestly the better deal, if you ask me.”

_Why? What are you doing? Are you trying to start a fucking conversation?_

Conversations with strangers is something she avoids at all cost …particularly customers. She is pleasantly surprised, however, when she sees the girl’s furrowed brow relax a little and a ghost of that same kind smile from before reappear on the girl’s face. Lexa can feel her own smile make an appearance as she quickly looks back at the screen, ignoring how her heart beat has picked up.

The girl doesn’t say anything as Lexa finishes inputting her information in the computer, gets her payment information and activates her entrance card. She slides the card across the counter and explains how to enter and exit through the gates. Clarke listens intently and nods to show she understands. Lexa finds herself wishing the girl would say something again so she could hear her voice. She ignores the thought.

“So, I think you are all set. Are you ready for a tour?” Clarke nods and lets a small “Sure” escape her lips.

Just then, Carli comes around the corner, empty handed, looking flustered, like she had been digging through every box in the stock room. “Lexa, I couldn’t find any of those brochures. I looked everywhere!” She looks concerned.  Lexa is amused.

“Oh, I found some in that drawer down there.” She absentmindedly points to the drawer directly under the chair she was occupying. Right where she knows the extra brochures are kept. “My bad.” Carli lets out a long sigh and has a look on her face that is a mix of confusion and exhaustion.

Lexa hears a soft giggle from across the counter and looks up to see Clarke smiling widely, looking away from the two employees. But she knows she heard. It makes Lexa feel oddly proud.

“Come on, Ms. Griffin. Let’s do your tour.” Lexa barely notices the rare and genuine smile that is covering her own face. “You got the desk, Carli?

Carli just huffs an annoyed response and retakes her seat.

As Clark comes around and uses her key card for the first time, she looks a little more relaxed. After entering through the gate she walks to stand next to Lexa, her bright eyes looking up at the ceiling and seeming to take in every detail of the room. Lexa gets a better look at her. She is a little shorter than Lexa, though not by much, and she is crossing her arms over her chest, like she is trying to hide behind them. Lexa notices that, though it is quite warm outside, the girl is wearing sweat pants, rather than shorts. When her eyes reach Clarke’s face she notices that Clark has her furrowed brow back, and looks a little flushed and angry again.

“Look, I know I do not exactly scream “gym material” but I thought I could actually better myself by coming here.  …this was stupid.” The last part seems like it was said more to herself than Lexa.

_What? What just happened?_

“I’m, uh, I'm sorry, Clarke…is it okay if I call you Clarke?”

Clarke gives a short nod. “It’s my name, so…” Lexa waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“Okay... Clarke….I’m not really sure what just happened…what is gym material?”

Clarke looks at the ground, but her voice stays strong as she speaks. “I’m not here to become some mindless girl with a perfect body.” She waves her hand at Lexa as she says ‘perfect body’, and Lexa tries to ignore the tingle in her stomach. “I just want to be stronger and do something good for myself. Make myself the healthiest version of me that I can." Lexa's heart warms hearing her thoughts from early echoed back at her.  "I don’t want to feel judged while I’m trying to do that.” She shakes her head, now looking sadder rather than mad, before looking down and turning to leave.

Lexa is still super confused and reaches for Clarkes arm before she thinks about it. Her hand wraps around Clarke's wrist and it feels warm and soft. She ignores how much she likes the feeling and gently pulls Clarke to get her to turn back around.

“Woah, wait! Just wait a second.” Lexa, takes a breath and tries to make sense of things. _What the fuck are you doing?? Let her go if she wants!_

“Look, there is no such thing as one type of gym person. Anyone who is looking to improve themselves and be healthier is welcome here. That is exactly what it is for. There are quite a few shallow assholes around,” she points her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of where Carli sits at the front desk, “but…not all of the people here are like that.” Clarke looks unconvinced. “And there is no ‘perfect body’,” She uses air quotes to get her point across. “Whatever you are here to work on, we’re here to help you do it. Nothing more, nothing less.” Clarke’s expression has softened slightly, though her mouth remains in a tight line, and she is looking down at the ground again, apparently deep in thought.

 _This girl thinks too much_. Lexa does not admit to herself that she is dying to know what those thoughts are.

Lexa uses the opportunity to chance another once over of the girl. She holds herself like someone who has played a sport of some kind before. There is a telling confidence in her posture that Lexa has come to recognize. And, while she seems a little self-conscious about her body, Lexa cannot understand why. Only the bottom two-thirds of her arms, and her neck are exposed, but she seems to exude something that pulls Lexa in. _She is actually rather beautiful_. Lexa blinks her eyes, trying to rid herself of the thought, which has caught her off guard.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that? Is it the pants?” Clarke’s voice is lower now, and curiosity has replaced the anger in her tone. Lexa feels her face burn. She freezes. _What the fuck?_ Lexa swallows hard, trying to figure a way out of this without completely embarrassing herself.

“I, uh…” _Think. Think. Say something you total and complete idiot._

“Hey, Lex! Got a new member here?”

_Lincoln, you beautiful, beautiful man._

“Lincoln! Yes, this is Clarke. She is really looking forward to starting with us. Actually, would you mind showing her around? I, uh…I’m not feeling well.” She looks at Clarke, whose eyebrows are raised in surprise and confusion. “It was nice to meet you, Clarke.” Before she can stop it, she bows towards them, stands upright, and then freezes, realizing what she has done.

_What the fuck was that? Did you just bow? WHO ARE YOU??_

“Excuse me.” And without waiting for an answer from either of them, she turns and walks away. Lincoln looks a little shocked at her actions, but she already hears him starting his passionate speech about the gym, and she knows Clarke will be won over in no time. When she reaches the locker room and is halfway in, she pauses. With one hand on the edge of the door, and most of her body behind it, she chances a glance back to see Lincoln speaking animatedly, and Clarke watching him intently, her expression gentle once again. Her blue eyes glance in Lexa’s direction for a moment and Lexa swears there is a small smirk. And a little bit of a blush.

Lexa’s eyes go wide, feeling a terror she has never known, and she turns and retreats to the locker room.


	2. MY PANTS!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke's POV of the same meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot of Clarke's thinking, so its a little...jumpier than the first chapter. Alot of self talk. A lot of internal rambling. It may be a little odd, ha. Hopefully, it works.

Clarke sits in the car, outside the gym, frozen in thought.  The music coming from the speakers is calming, just quiet enough that she can still get lost in her thoughts without having to fight the impulse to sing along.  She glances up to the sky, watching the clouds move at a leisurely pace, bringing fleeting shadows and taking them away just as quickly.  _Here one second, gone the next.  Nothing lasts. Change is the only constant._

_UGH_

She lets out an audible groan and rolls her eyes at her own melodramatic thoughts.  Clarke has always enjoyed thinking in tragically realistic, borderline poetic, not that profound, truisms, but has realized as she has gotten older that pontificating on the meaningless of everything is a pointless exercise.   She has come to accept that most things are pointless. And maybe she is wrong.  Maybe she has always been cynically waiting for something to save her from the numbness that she has grown accustomed to.  Hoping but never really expecting too much.

_I create my own meaning.  I choose who I want to be.  Existence precedes essence._

She feels the familiar shame creeping up but refuses to give it any room to grow.  _No more._

_You can think in existential clichés if you want, dammit! Your thoughts are your own._

_You’re Clarke, bitch!_

She has to chuckle at herself.  She swears that the last thought is in the voice of Raven, and it warms her a little that her friend is still so present in her mind, though they haven’t spoken in so long.  She knows that Raven is one of the few people that really knows Clarke.  She knows how Clarke gets wrapped up in so many thoughts, trying to follow strings to something meaningful, and often ending up nowhere.  She knows that Clarke loves thinking like that; overthinking, entertaining ridiculousness, venturing to the dark and strange places the human mind can take her.  She knows that Clarke is always searching for something; that she is always trying to hide her rampant fascination with the universe; with silly big ideas, and profound small ones.  Raven knew it all and Clarke felt that she was maybe the only person that accepted all her weirdness.  Even if Raven lived across the country, Clarke was grateful for that acceptance, especially when Clarke could not find it for herself.

Clarke knows that she has come a long way from who she was before.  Depressed and anxiety ridden, lost in a cloud of weed and self-loathing, despising herself equally for both caring too much and not caring enough.  She had spent so long trying to hide her geeky, nerdy, curious mind from anyone who might make her feel bad about it.  Spent even more time being that very shaming voice she hid from.  But she had pulled herself back.  She felt stronger than she had in ages.  Like a tiny emotional warrior was inside of her now. _Hehe._

_Tiny warrior Clarke._ She liked that.

Now, she was able to just…be.  To stay present and mindful.  To ground herself. But she still got lost in her head.  Still let small, illogical anxieties take over, occasionally.  But she was working on doing.  On taking action for herself.  She even made a list.

The first thing on it was to get her confidence back.  She hadn’t had it in a while.  Finn took it from her.  The world and its stupid heteronormativity,  shaming, and misogyny kept it from her.  She knew there was more to it...that she played a role in her own life, but she hated those things that she couldn't control. She felt anger at the injustice of it all rise in her chest, bubbling in her stomach.

_Breathe._   And she did.

 She looked back at the gym.  She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.  It is just a gym, where people go to work out, to be healthy.  She knew that.  She knew she wanted to go to work on actual strength, rather than just running and meditating.  She wanted to feel her own power.  But people were there.  She had improved so much, but isolating was still an issue.  She preferred the company of her own thoughts over the judgement of others.  People were…not always great. 

People did not really _get_ Clarke.

_You can do this.  You have control of yourself.  You are not concerned with the judgement of others anymore.  Remember?  That isn’t you._

Clarke knew that voice in her head was right, but it was still scary.  She had done so much for herself.  She had given up those vices she had clung to for so long.  She could actually feel things again.  She could be fucking honest with herself.  Hell, she could run a mile again!  She had been so proud for reaching that goal.  She had felt so strong. 

_I'm Clarke, bitches!_

_You are here because you want to feel strong again, right?  You want to feel at home in your body again, right? Become mindful of what you are capable of, right??_

“Yes.”  She says it out loud and it makes her feel a little braver.  She looks down at herself and questions the choice of sweat pants again.  She has been so much better about being okay with herself, but at the last minute she got nervous that her legs would be exposed around a bunch of fit gym people and threw the sweat pants on instead.  She wasn’t sure why.  They were just legs.  Just normal, human legs.

_Who gives a fuck? They are your legs.  And your pants.  YOUR PANTS!_

“My pants!”  She sees a guy walking by her car give her a strange look and realizes that her window is open.  She quickly looks away, but chuckles to herself.

_See.  Zero fucks given.  Be who you want to be._

She had to admit, if that had happened a few years ago, she may have let herself spiral.  But she wasn’t that person anymore. 

Finally, and suddenly, in a burst of courage, she exits the car and walks to the door of the gym.  Though it was a short walk, she felt the heat acutely. _Not sure the pants were worth it._   Luckily, as she opens the door to the gym, she feels a refreshing wall of cool air engulf her.  She breathes out a sigh of relief.  Taking in the room, she glances towards the front desk, where a pretty blonde girl is sitting making flirty chatter with someone else hidden behind a giant computer monitor.  She watches as the blonde appears disappointed with how her conversation is going and slides back towards a smaller computer, before she spots Clarke.  She gives an overly-friendly greeting and Clarke tries not to overthink her response.

“Um, I, uh, wanted to sign up. For the gym. I mean, a membership? Sorry, I don’t know how this works. I’ve never really been to a gym.” 

_Maybe a little thought would have been good._

She tries to smile to lessen the awkward feeling in her chest, but she fails miserably as she sees the blonde look her over with such judging eyes that Clarke cannot help being offended.  Clarke wasn’t sure if she was disapproving of Clarke’s body or her pants, but she was immediately annoyed.

_MY FUCKING PANTS!_

“Let me just grab the application and I’ll need a form of ID.”

Clarke calms herself and refuses to let this girl break her.  _I will not let you shame me for anything._   Clark grabs her ID and snaps it down on the counter, wishing so bad she could slap that stupid smile off of the girl’s face.

“Just fill this out and we can get you started.” Clarke grabs the pen that is handed to her and starts filling out the application.  _This is what is wrong with fucking gyms.  Making people who just want to improve themselves feel worse and making money off of them.  And of course they put some perfect blonde bitch up front to try to make us feel worse.  What is she, 16 years old?  She is tiny.  I bet she is hungry all the time. Women shouldn’t have to feel guilty for not fitting some shitty ideal of beauty that doesn’t fucking exist.  I decide when I’m beautiful._

Clarke knew she was getting carried away with herself again.  She could just picture her little inner warrior Clarke on a tiny little soap box, reciting feminist literature with such pretentious accuracy that she had to stop from rolling her eyes at herself.  But she was pissed. And she would rather be pissed than let that bitch make Clarke doubt herself.  That was a slippery slope and she refused to start down it.

Feeling as if she is being watched, she looks up to the space behind the larger computer monitor only to be stunned by the brightest and greenest eyes she had ever seen.  Staring directly at her.  

She was having an experience that Clarke had very rarely, usually when she knew someone fairly well, when she was suddenly struck by the truth that, behind two eyes in front of her, there is an entire personal world of someone else's consciousness; hopes, fears, insecurities, hidden strengths, comforting memories.  Everything. All that the human mind is capable of.  All that the human consciousness observes.  Individually unique interpretations of totally average, everyday events.  Just on the other side.  The thought always left her in awe.  This time was no different. 

Except this was a total stranger. 

And those eyes were definitely not like anything she had ever seen.

_Shit._

Clark’s inner monologue was suddenly jammed.  It was over in a second and she could do nothing but look back down at the application and fill out the rest without a single extra thought floating around.  As she signs her name at the bottom of the page, she considers looking back towards the eyes, to make sure she hadn’t imagined them, when Blonde Bitch suddenly returns.  Clarke trades in her form for a brochure, on autopilot, bringing her attention back as the Blonde Bitch speaks again.

“Okay! So Ms. Griffin, which membership would you like to sign up for today?  Our basic membership includes 24 hour gym access, use of the community lockers and showers in the locker room, and 1 free exercise class a month.  Any additional classes will cost extra, as will use of the sauna and any personal training sessions.  Then we have the Special package…” Clarke is trying to listen, but mostly thinking about ( _eyes...NO!...focus_ ) the prices and if anything would be worth paying $20-$40 more a month.  She tunes back in has she hears Blonde Bitch change her tone to a sickly sweet one that makes Clarke’s skin crawl.

“I, however, recommend the Premium membership. It includes all of that, plus access to our nutritionist, free visitor passes, and access to your own locker. That one will have ANYONE in beach ready shape in no time.” Clarke does not miss the not-so-subtle dig in the girl’s tone and she is about to throw the brochure in the bitches face, when she hears a much more pleasant voice interrupt her thoughts.

“Carli.  Go see if you can find some more brochures in the stock room. We’re getting low up here.”

Blonde Bitch (or Carli… _whatever_ ) looks startled and Clarke does everything she can to not laugh out loud at her discomfort.

“But…I’m helping a customer…”

_Helping?  Pissing off is more accurate._

“I will finish up with her. Go. Now.”  Carli seems a little scared of the authority in the voice and Clarke watches as she scurries away.

“Okay…I’ll be back…”

Clarke has to steady herself as she watches the owner of that voice and those deep, green eyes stand tall and walk over to the computer where Carli had been moments before.  _Just another pretty girl.  Calm down._   But she was more than pretty. 

Blonde Bitch was basic.  

This girl was gorgeous. 

Every inch of her skin that was exposed was toned and glistened, as if she had worked out recently...and for her whole life.  She held her self with an intimidating confidence; the sort of confidence Clarke had always been drawn to; had always envied.  And she was showing no sort of thought or emotion in her face.  The eyes that were vastly opened moments earlier were not as clear to read now.  Clarke was always good at reading people's faces, but this girl was a different story.  She had yet to meet Clarke’s eyes again, as she looked over her application. Clarke looked down on the brochure, while she still could, so as not to be caught staring.

“So, Ms. Griffin, which membership would you be interested in signing up for?”  Clarke risks a glance up at the girl for a quick second and sees a curiosity, bigger than the spoken question, behind those giant eyes.  _Her eyes are asking more difficult questions._ But her face is stone. 

_Or marble._

_As in, carved from._

_As in, how does someone that beautiful even exist?_

Clark has to look away.  She hadn’t even really taken in much of the information about the membership details, but she knows she is going for the cheapest one.

“I think I’ll stick with the basic one.”

“Okay then.” Marble Girl starts typing and Clarke is a little surprised she isn’t being pushed harder to take the pricier membership. “If you do want a personal trainer session or to attend a class, or anything else, just come to the front desk and you can pay for it separately.” 

_Hm.  I wonder if Marble Girl is just better at this._ Her distrustful brain kicks in. _She may be gorgeous, but she is a person like anyone else.  Capable of deceiving._ _Slowly building to a more subtle sale’s pitch. Smarter. Plus, she could probably sell anything to anyone.  Look at her. She has that gorgeous look about her that screams “I know you want to get with this and/or look like this…so you better spend all your time here and give us more money to do it.”_

_I will not be taken in!_

Tiny warrior Clark is suiting up, ready for battle.

_MY PANTS!_

“This is honestly the better deal, if you ask me.”

_Huh_?  Clarke is honestly taken back by the girl’s genuine tone.  She speaks in a lower voice this time.  It is a gravely whisper. It is warm and inviting.. She can’t help but smile.  And when she sees the Marble Girl smile back, she cannot look away.  She was already gorgeous…in a brooding, stoic, untouchable kind of way.

But that smile.

_Damn._

The girl looks back at her computer and they go through the motions finishing up all of the final details.  Clarke barely hears most of it.  _Is she moving in slow motion? What is happening?_

_Get it together Griffin._

“So, I think you are all set. Are you ready for a tour?”  Clarke mumbles some kind of assent, before seeing Carli reappear. 

“Lexa, I couldn’t find any of those brochures. I looked everywhere!”

_Lexa_. _Marble Girl’s name is Lexa._

Lexa barely looks at Carli while responding. “Oh, I found some in that drawer down there.  My bad.”

The look on Blonde Bitch’s face is golden and Clarke can’t help the giggle that escapes her, knowing that Lexa never searched for brochures.  _I should know, I've been watching._ She tries to hide her amusement by turning away.

“Come on, Ms. Griffin. Let’s do your tour.”

Clarke follows the instruction to get through the gate and meets Lexa on the other side.  She is feeling a little better now that she has succeeded in actually signing up, but the Blonde Bitch got to her more than she would admit.  She was feeling a little self-conscious and overwhelmed by so many odd experiences over the last few moments. And she started doing something that she promised she would avoid at all costs.  She started comparing.  This Lexa was more beautiful than anyone had any right to be and Clarke was just…Clarke.  Frumpy sweatpants, squishy body, very little grace.

Logically, she knows hat comparing herself to others has never gotten her anywhere good.  It is pointless and silly. She distracts herself by taking in her surroundings. She needs some grounding. The wall behind the front desk had blocked most of the gym until now, and Clark saw that it was much bigger than she had originally thought.  The room in front of her looked like it housed any sort of gym equipment imaginable, but it seemed spacious, rather than cramped.  There were stairs across the room that looked like they led to a lower floor, and there was what looked like a track circling the whole main room half way up the high walls. 

When Clarke finally looks back to Lexa, she sees the girl eyeing her clothes, stoic face back in place, eyes unreadable once again.  Clarke, already on the defensive, reacts immediately and without thinking at all, the confusion of the last few minutes fueling an illogical reaction.  _I knew it.  Different tactics, same goal. Size me up, sell me things, entice me with your beauty. I know your game._

“Look, I know I do not exactly scream 'gym material' but I thought I could actually better myself by coming here.”  Clark was immediately a little embarrassed by her reaction, but didn’t know what to do.  She was too far into her rant now. _maybe this was too much too fast __“…this was stupid.”_

“I’m, uh, I'm sorry, Clarke…is it okay if I call you Clarke?”

Clarke feels her anger continue to rise but also feels a tiny flutter at hearing her name on Lexa’s lips. “It’s my name, so…” Silence.

_Smooth.  Real smooth._

“Okay... Clarke….I’m not really sure what just happened…”  Lexa seems at a loss…”what is gym material?”

Clarke has to look at the ground to steady herself, because this is the kind of thing she wants to be better at.  Speaking her mind.  Without fear.  She has forgotten the point of any of this.  Has gotten pulled out of her constantly turning mind, somehow, and just speaks exactly what she is thinking.  “I’m not here to become some mindless girl with a perfect body.” She points at Lexa without thinking.  “I just want to be stronger and do something good for myself. Make myself the healthiest version of me that I can.  I don’t want to feel judged while I’m trying to do that.” She glances at Lexa and sees her softly shining eyes pointed in Clarke’s direction, with a hint of confusion evident. 

Clarke feels stupid.  And a little crazy.  Which is a feeling she hates. _This whole thing could have gone better._ Clarke feels a little disappointment in herself.  It’s no longer about the gym.  It has just become about her own embarrassment now. Her own anxiety.   _I need to leave._

As she turns, she feels warm skin on her wrist that shoots a tingle slowly up her arm.  “Woah, wait! Just wait a second.”  The voice is soft and gentle and Clarke is rooted to the spot by the feel of Lexa’s hand on Clarke’s skin and the look in her eyes as she speaks.  The eyes of opened once again, and Clarke is a little lost.  “Look, there is no such thing as one type of gym person. Anyone who is looking to improve themselves and be healthier is welcome here. That is exactly what it is for. There are quite a few shallow assholes around, but…not all of the people here are like that.”

Clarke could see that way Lexa’s eyes were pleading with her.  Trying to tell her that _Lexa_ wasn’t like that.  Her stomach twisted and she struggled to keep her extensively constructed internal wall in place.

“And there is no ‘perfect body’,” Clarke struggled not to look at the example before her that contradicted that statement.

_Yeah right._

 “Whatever you are here to work on, we’re here to help you do it. Nothing more, nothing less.” Clarke had to look away from Lexa.  She felt too vulnerable after her outburst and felt like smiling at the girl would leave her exposed somehow. 

Lexa was right.  There was no perfect body.  _Lexa's is pretty damn close though..._

_You just got through lecturing yourself about this._

She knew she had let her internal freak out take over.  She thought she had gotten better at this.  She always tells herself something she logically knows is true, but when her emotions rear their ugly heads, she forgets it.  Or says the wrong things.  And then hates herself for it.

She knew Lexa was being genuine.  She looked back up at Lexa and, again, found green eyes staring.  But, before letting herself get defensive again, she looked a little closer.

There was no hint of judgement in her eyes.  There was something though.  Something she couldn’t quite read.  Clarke was becoming frustrated at how difficult it was to read this girl. _Goddamn beautiful marble face._ She decided to be a little braver than usual.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that? Is it the pants?”

… _My pants?_

She seems to startle Lexa out of a trance. “I, uh…”.  Clarke saw a red tinge creeping up the smooth expanse of Lexa's neck.

_Is she blushing?_

All of Clarke's thoughts screech to a halt. She swears she actually hears the sound of a record scratch.

_No way.  No fucking way._

She almost laughs at the ridiculous thought. Clarke could barely entertain the notion that Lexa, Marble Girl, owner of the most devastatingly beautiful face Clarke had ever seen, attached to a toned, sculpted, killer body, was checking her out.

_No._

_Fucking._

_Way._

“Hey, Lex! Got a new member here?”

Clarke does not have time to process this new development before she is met with the wide smile and broad shoulders of the man in front of her, greeting her with a firm hand shake.

“Lincoln! Yes, this is Clarke. She is really looking forward to starting with us. Actually, would you mind showing her around? I, uh…I’m not feeling well.” Lexa meets Clarke’s eyes for a moment, and Clark can still not process what has just happened. “It was nice to meet you, Clarke.”

And then Lexa bows.

Bows?  Do people bow?

_I know I don't get out much but...that was…weird._

And Clarke cannot help the swooping in her stomach because Lexa looks mortified and Clarke is giddy at the fact that this girl, who was possibly the coolest person she has ever seen about 5 minutes ago, just out-awkwarded Clarke.  Clarke finds it extremely endearing.  Because it is a rare experience indeed.

Lexa turns and walks quickly away. 

She is half listening to Lincoln tell her about all of the parts of the gym, and even giving him half of her attention, she has already become excited about working out here.  His enthusiasm is infectious.  When she chances a look in the direction that Lexa had retreated to, she sees intense green eyes peeking out from behind the door a her pulse quickens.

_Did any of this really happen?_

_I think I might actually I like the gym._

 

 

 

 


	3. Hold the Stretch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are in their heads. They meet again. They stretch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want anyone to get used to such a quick succession of chapter postings, but I can't seem to stop writing this at the moment so, I'm going with it.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments. I am grateful.

Lexa tapped her finger nails on the plastic of the laptop as she waited for the website to load.  When the page finally appeared, she groaned out loud.

“Uuuugh”

“What is it now?”

Lexa glared over her laptop at Anya. “He still hasn’t posted the grades for the test.  He said he would by tonight.”

Anya just rolled her eyes, and stood up from the couch.  “It is only 7.  Would you relax?  You have had a stick up your ass all week...more than usual.”  The blonde carried her now empty pasta bowl to the sink in the kitchen, passing by the chair where Lexa reclined, computer in her lap, teasingly pushing her head as she went.

Lexa ignored her, and continued to stare at the screen, pretending to focus on what was there.  She could feel Anya’s eyes on her.

“Seriously, what’s the deal with you?”

Lexa rolled her eyes.  “There is no ‘deal’ with me.  I am just trying to stay on top of all this work I have.  I don’t want to get behind in my last year.”

“Lex, your GPA is, like, 5 billion, and you told me last week that the work load this year is nothing compared to all the years before.”

“That is not how GPAs works, smart ass.  And I still need to stay focused.”

Anya sighs. “Whatever.  I’m going to the gym to see if this client will actually show.  I hate evening clients.”

Lexa smirks at this.  “Then why did you agree to take him?”

“Because Echo is out for a few days, all the other trainers have a full client list right now, and SOMEONE took a random week off, to stare at her computer screen.  How did you even convince Lincoln to let you do that?”

Lexa ignored the question, trying to forget the extra clients she thoughtlessly agreed to take on.  “I told you I am trying to stay on…”

“Top of all this work you have.  Yes, so I hear…”Anya rolls her eyes.  “I’m leaving.”  With an annoyed huff, she is out the door.

Lexa refreshes the page again, and waits.

_I do need to get ahead this work,_ she thinks indignantly to herself.  _If I can get ahead now, it will make it much easier when the semester gets busier._   She looks across the small living room and out the window, where the sun has already lowered itself, leaving the sky in the confused purple state between the soft blue of day and the deep blue of night.  Some of the brighter stars can already be seen.  She is on the third floor, so there are no trees or powerlines to block her view.  Just solid fading color, like the background of a painting that hes yet to be truly started.

_You know why you are here._

Lexa shakes her head.  She could not think about that right now.

_Because you are soooo busy?  You have finished all your assignments for the next 2 weeks, you know the material for your next test like the back of your hand, and you have to go back to the gym tomorrow.  This is as good a time as any._

She releases a shaky sigh.  She had thrown herself into school, begged Lincoln for a week off, and did all her working out at home for the past 6 days, and she had barely let her mind wander to the ‘why’ of it all.

_Clarke._

At the thought of just the name, she huffed and looked around, as if someone might have heard her thought.

She did not understand what had happened.  In the 7 years she had worked at the gym, Lexa barely spoke to anyone who was not a client or a staff member, and most of the staff were like family, so she didn’t count them.  Clients got a very no-nonsense version of Lexa.  Which was not that far off from who she was.  She was there to help them, minimally encourage them when necessary, and then that was it.  And outside of the gym, it was much of the same.  When she was younger, she had dipped her toe into the world of socializing, flirting and dating, but with Costia and the accident…she could see where it led.  And she would not let herself go there again.  It was pointless and dangerous.  She wasn’t a child anymore.  She couldn’t just let her emotions steer her around like a puppet.  She had commitments and responsibilities.  To herself.  To Lincoln. To Anya.

_Okay, Bad Ass, then what happened?_

She was at a loss.  As soon as she saw those blue eyes, that seemed to be perpetually searching and thinking, she could not account for her actions.  The girl seemed so different from anyone she had met before.  Lexa firmly believed that most people were the same, underneath their attempts to seem different.  Outside of her gym family, she had rarely met any that proved her wrong.  That is how she lived her life.  But Clarke really messed with those beliefs.

_You met her for five minutes and then made an ass of yourself, and left!  How do you even know that she’s different?  What does different even mean??_

_Get a hold of yourself, Commander._ She smiled at the nickname her co-workers gave her for getting shit done with clients but not being quite as terrifying as Anya.

She breathed deeply.  She had been arguing with herself much more than usual.

Clarke just felt different.  She seemed so nervous and self-conscious…but very sharp and aware.  She had something behind her eyes that just scrambled Lexa’s defense system.  Like a spy infiltrating a fortress and shutting down all programmed alert systems, without being detected.  Lexa felt herself being pulled in.  She felt questions on her tongue and hopes in her heart.  She wanted to build Clarke up when she saw her crumble.  She wanted to cheer for herself when she made Clarke giggle.  She wanted to reach out and hug her tight so that she could feel the shape of her body under her adorably loose fitting clothes and…

_Jesus._

_This is why.  This is why I needed time._

Lexa began mentally preparing herself for the next day.  She would go in early, go for a run to clear her head, get her mind right, and maybe spend some time doing the yoga stretches she had learned in class.  Take care of herself.  She wasn’t even sure if Clarke would be there, or if she had been there at all in the past week.  Maybe she was sufficiently weirded out by Lexa on that first day and decided against going back.

But if she hadn’t…if she was there, Lexa could handle it. She was around beautiful girls all the time.  She was around beautiful boys all the time.  Clarke was just a different kind of person that Lexa had to adjust to.  Different but still, ultimately, the same. Lexa could ignore anyone and focus through anything.  She could still be strong.  Weakness is not an option.

_You can do this._

She refreshed the page one more time.  Her grade appeared on the screen.

“ _Yes!”  A again._

_You got this._

 

As she made her way to the front door, Clarke could feel the ache in her arms from the previous day’s work out.  She had not lifted weights since high school off seasons, and she was feeling it now.  It was a good pain though.  She felt proud of herself.  Accomplished.  Her legs had been much sorer yesterday, but it had mostly subsided, and she was plaining on having a run to work out some of the rest of the achiness.

She had been here 5 of the last 7 days and she was a little impressed with herself.  And not just for actually showing up and working out.  After that first day, she had returned and spent about an hour distractedly searching for green eyes and brown hair as she absentmindedly strolled through the equipment.  But Lexa was nowhere to be found.  And Clarke internally kicked herself.  Because she was here for herself, NOT for some girl.  And she went to work, testing out the equipment.  Seeing where her body was at.  What she could lift, and what she needed to work on.

Now, a week later, after doing so well for the whole week, her thoughts drifted back to Lexa, without her permission. 

_You met her ONCE, a week ago!  What is wrong with you?  Let it go!_

_You always do this.  Make up stories in your head about some beautiful girl or boy that is perfect and will rescue you from yourself._

_No, I don’t need rescuing.  That is the old me._   Clarke was sure of that much.  She was over trying to rely on others to make herself feel better.  She could do that on her own.  The younger, romantic version of herself was gone.  Logic and reason were the better option. Sure, she believed in being kind and compassionate; respecting people.  But losing yourself in someone else or wasting time on finding a ‘happily-ever-after’…that was nonsense.  Even the idea of being attracted to someone felt so strange.  It had been so long…years, in fact, that she felt that way about anyone.  She just figured it wouldn’t happen.  That it was just an illusion of all of those false beliefs and childish fantasies.  That could not be what this was.

_Then what is this story?  The one that you are making up about Lexa.  That she was into you?...Really?  Did you see her?_

_Probably not the case._

Clarke recognized that she had been entertaining those ridiculous ideas about romance, love at first sight, and all the other bullshit that goes along with it.  But it wasn’t real.  None of it.  It was a lie. A joke.

_It is a story we are told from a young age.  It makes little kids think they need to be in a relationship to feel whole.  It makes grown adults think that their worth is dependent on whether or not someone is attracted to them.  Or wants to touch them.  Or wants to have sex with them._

Clarke is frustrated that her internal rant has somehow ended with picturing Lexa, doing all those things. With Clarke.

_No!  Stop it!_

Clarke walks through the gym to the stairs that lead up to the track.  She has her headphones in and tries to get lost in her own world as she starts to walk briskly on the track to warm up her muscles.  She looks down at the gym equipment.  It is not very busy at the moment.  It is still early.  There are only maybe 4 people there, lifting weights and stretching.  She takes a look around the track for the first time and sees that there is another person running on the opposite side and…

_Shit._

_It’s her._

She is on the opposite side, a little past where Clarke is, so Lexa’s back is to her as she runs.  Clarke cannot stop looking.  She is wearing tiny running shorts and a sports bra.  That is it.  Clarke swallows thickly.  She sees that all of her skin is a light golden brown, and glistening evenly.  Clarke wonders how long she has been running.  Lexa has several tattoos on her back and arms and Clarke feels her chest tighten. _Why?? Why tattoos?  Damn you, beautiful body art!_ She feels a warmth expand slightly between her heart and stomach.  And somewhere a little lower.

As Lexa reaches the curve in the track, Clarke tears her eyes away.  _Act like she’s not here._ She looks forward, takes a deep breath and, without thinking, starts to lightly jog.  She focuses on the music and keeping her breathing steady.  It works, quickly actually, and she is caught up in the feel of her legs and pushing all of the air out of her lungs fully before inhaling in again, focusing on maintaining an even pace with her steps and her breathing.  She sees Lexa pass her twice, which doesn’t surprise her.  The girl could probably go for hours.

_Don’t even…_

But Lexa stays on the opposite side of the wide path, so Clarke manages to keep her focus off of the girl.  Clarke makes it around the track twice (further than she thought she would) before, already short of breath, she sees Lexa’s figure in her periphery, much closer than before. She is slowly passing and Clarke chances a glance at her.  It is a mistake.

Her green eyes are fixed ahead of her, blazing and focused.  Some of the loose curls of her dark hair that have escaped her braid are sticking to her glistening neck.  As Clarkes eyes trail down, avoiding focusing on the tattoos for too long,  she sees beads of sweat slowly gliding down the muscles in her lower back, which are rippling with ever stride, and into the band of her shorts, that cover her firm and perfect…

_Fuck._

Her breath catches and she has to stop, though she manages to continue walking.  She closes her eyes for a second and holds her arms over her head, placing her hands on the top of her head.  She keeps her steps steady, as she tries to breathe deeply and control her heart rate.  Her music blocks out any sign that Lexa was breathing heavily so near to her. 

She tries not to berate herself too much.  The nice thing about exercise is that it is one of the few things that slows her racing thoughts.  She puts her distance at a little over a mile, which is not too bad for her, but she knows she may have lasted longer without the…distraction.  She is not sure how long she has been walking, but when she opens her eyes, she sees no one in front of her.  Slowly, she turns her head to the rest of the track.

It’s empty.

Clarke is slightly relieved.  She continues walking until she reaches the steps that lead down to the lower level.  When she reaches the bottom, she feels some tightness in her quads and figures she should probably stretch, but part of her is afraid to stay out in the open.  As if Lexa is lurking around a corner. She feels strangely vulnerable to being caught unaware again by Lexa’s presence.  She looks ahead and sees a door with the word CALM on the top of the door frame.  She remembers Lincoln mentioning that the room was kind of a miscellaneous space that people could stretch or meditate in, when they wanted a few moments of quiet.  It wasn’t always guaranteed to be empty, and it didn’t lock, but Clarke figured with so few people she would be safe to stretch in there.  To calm herself.

As she pulled the door open, she realized it was weighted and much heavier than she was expecting, so as soon as she pulled it wide enough she hopped through.

She froze.

_Of, fucking, course._

In front of her, on a yoga mat, was Lexa.  The front of her legs were flat on the ground, pointed at the toes towards the back of her mat. The top half of her body, starting at her hips, was curved upward, held up by her arms, which were straight down in front of her, palms wide on the mat.  Her eyes were closed and she breathed in deeply.  Clarke was transfixed by how Lexa looked so serene.  So perfect.

_Seriously?_

And then, BANG!

The heavy door, slowed by its mechanics, slammed behind her.

Lexa’s eyes shoot open, and her arms bend slightly, as she turns to look in the direction of the door.  Clarke is standing, wide eyed, staring like a fool.

Neither of them speaks for a moment.  Lexa seems just as dumfounded as Clarke at first, but her Marble mask slips back into place.  Clarke decides to speak.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in here…I, uh…I just hate stretching out in the open.”  She leaves out the part about fearing this exact scenario.  But she doesn’t really want to leave now that she has found herself here.  She’s nervous, and for the first time in a while, it feels like a good kind of nervous.

Lexa just looks at her for a beat, giving away nothing, and nods curtly.  “It’s fine.  There is plenty of room.”  She is so cool and collected.  Clarke remembers when she bowed at her a week ago and wonders if she made the whole things up.

As Lexa breathes in deeply and goes back to her pose, Clarke slowly makes her way to the opposite side of the room, trying to avert her eyes.  She glances up at the sound of a deep exhale from Lexa, and sees that she has transitioned to downward dog, holding her body up, ass in the air, pedaling her calves, hands firmly planted on the ground.  She tries not to stare at the soft curve of toned triceps flexing from holding the position.

Now that she is here, sharing a space with Lexa, alone, she feels awkward and unable to decide what to do with her body from moment to moment.  _Just stretch dammit!_   Without thinking she reaches down with her right hand and pulls her right foot back behind her to stretch her quad.  She wobbles a little but finds the wall with her left hand to steady herself.  When she gets comfortable in the stretch, she pulls back a little further and feels it stretch right where she needed it.  She can’t help but let out a soft, satisfied groan and close her eyes at how nice it feels.  As she opens her eyes to switch sides, she glances over and sees Lexa, sitting on her knees, feet underneath her, staring at Clarke, face flushed (probably from her workout).  As she releases her leg, she feels her eyebrows raise and the question slip out of its own accord.

“What?”  Clarke wishes it didn’t sound so insecure.  Wishes that it conveyed more of a ‘what are you looking at?’ rather than a ‘do I have food on my face?’ tone.

Lexa blinks. “Um…you should really hold your stretches a little longer.”

“Oh, um…okay.”  Clarke pauses.  “Why?”

Lexa looks surprised at the question at first but recovers.  “Anything less than 20 seconds doesn’t really do much to lengthen the muscle fibers.”  Clarke is impressed by her tone.  It sounds like she knows what she is talking about.  Clarke tries not to find it so attractive.

“Ah. Okay, well…thanks.”  She pulls her right leg up again to hold it for longer.

“Of course.”

They sit in silence for a few moments.  Lexa is stretching her arms across her body, looking straight ahead again.

Once Clarke is done with the quad stretch, she looks down and tries to think of what to do next.  Her mind feels a little sluggish.  She knows she should stretch but she cannot seem to remember any stretches at this exact moment.

“What are you trying to stretch?”

She looks up again to see that Lexa has noticed her confused state.

“Oh, um…I’m not really sure actually.  My quads were sore, but nothing else is particularly sore so…I guess I’m at a loss.”

“Well you were running, right?  So it may be a good idea to stretch your calves, hamstrings, hip flexors…and probably your lower back.”  She watches as Lexa seems to be thinking to herself for a second.  “A good butt stretch never hurts either.”  The corner of Lexa’s mouth curls up a little and Clarke can only nod her head and struggle to keep a full-blown, toothy grin off her own face, maintaining a tight lipped smile instead.  Lexa mentioning a butt, anyone’s butt, is doing funny things to Clarke’s brain _._

“Do you know how to stretch any of those things?”  There is a hint of laughter in Lexa’s tone as she watches Clarke continue to stand there like an idiot.  Clarke would probably be annoyed and defensive normally, but she couldn’t seem to muster those feelings up right now.

“I, uh…yeah.  The calf is just…”She quickly spins to face the wall, and puts the balls of her right foot against it as high as she can and leans forward, feeling a stretch.

She hears Lexa let out a soft, melodic laugh, just barely audible, and hates how her insides feel like a bottle of champagne, ready to pop.

“If you want, I can do a partner stretch with you.  I think it feels better for the calf muscles.”

Clarke is a little surprised, and barely registers as she nods and turns to face Lexa, who is slowly approaching her.  _Is this real?_ The closer she gets the more difficult it becomes for Clarke to keep from looking anywhere but Lexa’s body.  In an effort to be less weird, she looks at Lexa’s face instead.  It was not the best solution.

Her Marble mask is gone, and Lexa’s eyes are gentle and curious, as she stops about a foot away from Clarke and looks down.  “Okay, so you are going to put the balls of your foot against mine, just like my foot was the wall, and I’ll do the same thing.  We are both going to push against each other’s foot.  The fact that we both have to stabilize helps a little with muscle control.”  She smirks a little.  “Actually, that last part I don’t know for sure, but it sounds good so….let’s try.”

And Clark actually chuckles and feels her chest expand, as the smile on Lexa’s face does the same.

As she turns her toes upward and they bring them together, they both automatically grab each other’s arms to stabilize.  Clarke feels a wave of electricity jolt through her body at the contact.

_Get your shit together, Griffin._

She sees Lexa close her eyes and take a deep breath and refuses to let her mind guess why.  When she opens her eyes, Lexa looks down and they each adjust their footing so that they are stable.  “Okay, now lean into it until you feel the stretch.”  Her voice is a little less steady and a little softer than before.

They each lean slightly forward at the hips, arms still grasping.  Each girl looks slightly off to either side. Clarke can feel the warmth of Lexa’s hands on her forearms and hopes that Lexa cannot feel Clarke’s pulse in her hands as fully as she can feel it in her own neck.  She refuses to turn her head at all.  She can smell Lexa’s shampoo mixed with the musky scent of her sweat and it is not at all as unappealing as Clarke thinks it should be.

“Okay, let’s switch.”   _That was quick…was that 20 seconds?_   Clarke’s sense of time feels off.

They switch feet and readjust again until they settle into the stretch.  This time, Clarke chances turning her head slightly towards Lexa’s and sees that she is still turned away.  She is so close to the girl, she can see a small smattering of freckles around her nose.  She lets her eyes glide back, over to her ear, and then down behind it, finding a scar there that runs about two inches down her neck, where she finds Lexa’s pulse beating through her smooth skin. She swears the skin is glowing with each beat. _The moon lives in the lining of your skin._   She gets a sudden urge to lick the spot, to feel Lexa’s pulse beating under her tongue.  

Her eyes shoot back towards Lexa, fearing, somehow, that she will be caught.  _Criminal thoughts._   But Lexa is still facing a little away, staring intently at a single spot on the ground.  So Clark takes another risk and glances, out of the side of her eye, down to Lexa’s lips.  She does not risk breathing for fear of being caught.  Her lips are slightly open, the bottom one so plump and inviting, begging, pleading with something inside Clarke that she had never been aware of until right in that moment.  She wanted to nibble it, to feel it on her own lips; to glide her finger across it.  Clarke feels that all of the particles in Lexa’s body, in her face, in her lips ( _god, her lips)_ were vibrating.  She _knew_ they were, actually.  That was just quantum physics.  But Clarke could swear she physically felt it right now, though she knew that was impossible.  That somehow, in this moment, something was happening.  Shifting.  Expanding.  Contracting.  She felt that parts of her brain were being set on fire, burning away things she had always known, preparing a place just for Lexa; to allow a space that would fit the image and feel of Lexa’s lips; her skin; her eyes. 

_Shit, her eyes!_

They were looking.  They were seeing.  Clarke had been caught.

She waited, expecting to be pushed away.  Or laughed at.  Or slapped.

But nothing happened.  They just stared.  No one breathed.  No one moved. Clarke noticed specks of yellow in the emerald pools and a ring of sea-foam green around the edges.  And then she saw Lexa’s eyes lower, as Clarkes own had before.  Eyes to lips and back again.  The space was shrinking and it still felt like a canyon that she was hanging over.  Held up by a thread.

“’I’m checking!  Calm your tits!”  The door burst open, and they flew apart like shrapnel.  Actually, they were still in the calf stretch, less than a foot apart, but their arms released and they leaned back a few inches.  It felt like miles to Clarke.

Anya, who had been calling over her shoulder when she opened the door, looked in as they slowly pulled apart their feet, giving no indication of the flurry of activity behind Clarke’s aching frame or of what almost happened seconds before.

“Lex, there you are!  Lincoln is looking for you.  He needs someone to cover Echo’s client today, and I’m sure as shit not doing it.  He said you volunteered?”  Anya waits for a response, annoyance and confusion on her face.

“Oh…yeah.  I mean, Yeah!  Sure!  Got it!”  Lexa looked around for a second, quickly rolled up her mat, and pushed by Anya through the door way without glancing back.  Anya looked a little shocked at her enthusiasm, but shrugged, gave a curt nod in Clarke’s direction, and left.

Clarke closed her eyes, brain still fuzzy, and drowned in the skin she could still feel burning on her arms and the sweet sensation of Lexa’s breath on her cheek.

_I am fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so tempted to let it happen...


	4. Thoughtless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a whole bunch of processing in this one. And a little more about Clarke's past. And there is a beginning.

The employee locker room was empty.  The lights were off, save the ‘emergency light’, which could not be turned off, and a lamp on the back wall next to the opening of a small hallway leading out of the room.  At the end of the walkway, the shower room was quiet, echoing with the low hum of the giant air conditioner unit on the other side of the wall.  The lights were on here, though.  Only one of the three stall doors was shut.  Behind it sat Lexa, hidden from anyone who might enter the room, facing her back to the stall door, straddling a short bench, each foot planted firmly on the ground on either side.  Her hands lay, palms down, on her thighs, gripping lightly, but feeling weightless.  She stared blankly ahead at the shower on the back wall of the stall, where the walls curved slightly to separate the actual shower from the rest of the 10 foot space.  The curtain hung, half open, swaying minutely from the slight breeze of a vent overhead.  There were empty hooks on the wall between the shower and the bench that she currently sat upon.  She hadn’t brought any of her things in the stall with her.  Suddenly, the air conditioner in the room shut off.  Lexa hadn’t even thought about the steady sound it had been producing, but now, without it, the silence was almost overwhelming.  She could hear the steady, slow drip from the leaky shower head in the stall next to hers.  She could hear the low buzz from the light hanging overhead.  She could hear the thud in her chest that would not quiet.

She had maintained her focus through her session with the client, and even through her turn to wipe down the equipment and organize the weights along the wall of the main room.  She walked slowly and steadily through the building when she was done.  Anyone watching her would only see calm and collected Lexa, moving through her day with certainty, knowing exactly where she needed to be next, knowing how much time she had, never having to rush.  Same as usual.  She walked directly through the locker room, straight back to the showers, closed the stall door, and sat.  She hadn’t showered.  She hadn’t removed her workout clothes.  She hadn’t moved since she sat down on the bench.  She had been there for almost half an hour now.

She replays the events of the morning in her head. 

She had been feeling great, just passing her fourth mile, when she saw Clark enter the track.  And, surprisingly, she had still been fine.  The running had made it easy.  She focused on her breathing and nothing else.  She maintained her distance each time she passed the girl.  They were both running and Lexa enjoyed that they each seemed to be moving too quickly to ever pay each other any real attention.  But at the fifth mile, as she rounded the corner to run along the straight edge that Clarke was on, her body acted of its own accord.  Maybe it was testing her mind, as if to say, ‘ _Hey, brain, I can get closer.  Don’t you trust me?  I just ran five miles! I can get closer than 5 feet to Clarke Griffin.  No problem.’_  

And it hadn’t been a problem.  She passed without incident, only glancing briefly at the girl’s pale calves and her blonde ponytail bouncing with her stride.  Lexa was solid…until she heard Clarke release a rugged, exasperated breath directly behind her and heard the girl’s steps slow.  Lexa’s body seemed to chicken out, knowing Clarke was now moving at an accessible pace, just behind her, and that same body led her directly around the next curve, down the stairs, and into the CALM room, almost before Lexa’s mind was aware. 

_Its fine,_ she had thought _._ She was planning to stretch anyway.  Nothing too out of the ordinary had happened.  She had a gut reaction to Clarke’s unexpected action…(she had to roll her eyes at herself... _you mean walking?_ )…but things were going to plan.  And then it got…strange.

_Lexa curved up into upward dog.  She breathed deeply into the feeling in her back, which curled in to itself, as she enjoyed the stretch in her stomach muscles.  As she held it, she calmed, her body humming to her in approval._

_BAM!_

_Lexa startles, turning to the noise, and her mind trips, face first, into blue._

So deep and cool and refreshing.

_Lexa recovers after a moment, only half hearing Clarke’s words, and tries to quickly work her thoughts out. Or think thoughts at all. She pushes away her instinct to ignore Clarke entirely or say something snarky, instead opting for a friendly response, accepting Clarke’s presence._

What?  Why…

Whatever…I won’t fight this.  I will ignore this. _She knows that indifference is better than bitchiness at maintaining distance.  She is not new to keeping her distance from people.  Clarke may be making it a little more difficult, but Lexa will not allow herself to become a nervous wreck.  She’s better than that._

_Lexa closes her eyes and continues to deepen her breath, moving to downward dog, pedaling her feet up and down, enjoying the stretch in her calves._

_Lexa lowers down to sit on her knees, and glances up to see Clark wobbling, steadying herself as she pulls her leg up to stretch her quad, closing her blue eyes.  Lexa keeps her amusement off of her face, as she looks ahead again, straightens her back and breathes._ See.  Easy.

_Her eyes shoot back to Clarke as she hears a low, throaty moan escape the girl’s mouth.  Her lower stomach tingles.  Or maybe burns is a better term.  It is an intense and shocking reaction that Lexa cannot account for.  She has a flash of Clarke, making the same noise, on her back, neck stretched out, straining, losing herself under Lexa’s hands; under Lexa’s touch; under Lexa’s tongue._

_“What?”  Clarke’s voice pulls Lexa back, sounding so soft and nervous.  She realizes she has been staring._

 

Lexa brings herself back to the present.  The rest is too much.  The way Clarke so adorably spun quickly towards the wall to do her calf stretch and how Lexa couldn’t stop the giggle ( _fucking giggle!?_ ) that she let out.  The way she instinctively dropped her defenses, without a second thought, to help Clarke stretch.  The way she ached to know what was going on behind that constantly furrowed brow; to know what she was feeling; to hear her speak.   The electricity when they gripped each other’s arms. 

She could not recall any of the thoughts in her head in those moments.  They were not in a language she knew.  Lexa was always more of a doer than a thinker.  Her mind and body usually decided and went for things, and she always preferred that to overthinking or wallowing.  That tendency must have taken over.  Everything that happened in that room with Clarke seemed to flow so easily, like they were moving through water.  There was no space between her thoughts and her actions, they just melted together, from one moment to the next.  From her curiosity, to her smile, to her words, to her touch.

 She had looked away the entire time during the stretch, until she just couldn’t anymore, and she saw Clarke looking at her lips, with something deeper than hunger, and Lexa had wanted to flee, but instead, looked right back.  Noticed the way Clarke’s eye lashes turned blonde at the tips, felt Clarke’s breath on the tiny stray hairs at the back of Lexa’s neck, and could not stop glancing at her soft, pink lips.  She wanted to touch them.  She was going to kiss them.  She was absolutely sure of it.

But Anya came in. And Lexa left, and robotically finished her day.  She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.  She wasn’t sure if she regretted staying in that room with Clarke.  She wasn’t sure if this whole thing was awful or amazing.  She was not sure of anything at the moment.  She didn’t know what to do, or what to think.  She wasn’t even sure if she remembered how to think.  So she sat and stared at nothing, feeling as if the reality around her had changed somehow.  It felt different.  She felt different.

Everything was different.

 

Clarke felt lighter as she finished her workout that day. 

For once, she had no thoughts in her head.  This was such a rare occurrence, she wanted to savor it.  Normally, every thought in Clarke’s head challenged or questioned the one before it.  She was always probing and clarifying.  Trying to understand.  Figuring out how to explain things, how to move forward, how to make sense.  The best way to phrase something, the most sensible explanation. She actually enjoyed it most of the time.  She loved her mind.

But there were no thoughts today.  Not in words anyway.  There was a ghost, a memory, of a sensation.  Of breath.  Of skin.  Of an expanding in her chest and a simmer in her stomach.  At first she was afraid that it might hinder her workout, but she felt energized.  She breathed steadily through her reps on the squat machine.  She felt powerful as she completed her crunches and planks.  She even held a pleasant conversation with Lincoln, and there was absolutely no awkwardness. 

She didn’t look for Lexa.  She knew she was with a client, probably nearby, but she finished her workout and left.  She had to process something.  She wasn’t sure what it was yet.

As she pulled her car out of the parking lot of the gym, her thoughts began to come back to her.  Even now, though, they were gentle. 

It was as if there had always been a Cynical Voice and a Hopeful Voice arguing in her head, and normally, the Cynical Voice was proven right.  The Cynic was a sore winner and loved to be vocal about its correctness, and urged, screamed, for more walls to be built; more words left unspoken; fewer chances taken.  And Clarke usually let the Cynic carry her, to dark, safe places of loneliness and bitterness, where nothing could reach her.

The Hopeful Voice in her, however, was softer; smarter.  It seemed to just hold Clarke’s attention gently and say, ‘wow, this is interesting’, knowing that Clarke would fight it, if it pushed too hard.  The Hopeful voice held her hand and made her look.  Made her see.  Made her think of her moment with Lexa.

Clarke knew herself.  She knew that her brain was great at hiding things from itself.  Making up reasons and excuses for her actions and feelings.  Most brains are good at that. But every time she became aware of some hidden truth inside her, the illusion was shattered.  She could never push the truth back in and hide it again.  She had to deal with it.  It was a compulsion that she could never fight.  This had always been how she operated. 

She remembers it happening…

…being 15, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and realizing she liked girls in the same way she liked boys.  She told her parents two days later.

…then being 18, after not crying at all for weeks after it happened, not even at the funeral, realizing that her father was really dead. Gone, and not coming home.  She cried for almost two weeks straight and finally ate something substantial.

…then being 19 and realizing that she didn’t give a shit about being a doctor, and switched her major to Philosophy the next day.

…then being 21, watching Finn go through her phone in a jealous rage, seeing a stranger behind his eyes, realizing that their relationship was toxic and emotionally abusive.  She broke up with him the two days later…and then again the next week…and once and for all a week after that.

…and she remembers when she was 26…6 months ago…3 years after Finn overdosed…when she finally realized that his death wasn’t her fault.  That she had been punishing herself and numbing her pain for years with weed and words, and that there was no reason for it.

The next day she had thrown her pipe against the ground of the parking lot, shattering it.  She flushed $80 worth of weed down the toilet (keeping two perfectly rolled joints for a special occasion, when she was ready, when she knew she could enjoy it again without falling in).  She wrote a letter to Finn that she promptly burned on her patio, and she went for a run. 

All of those moments, twists and turns in her life, had freed her from her own lies, from the things she hid from and hid behind.  She wished that there could just be one twist, one painful event or tragic mistake, but that wasn’t how life worked.  They were all parts of her story that she felt proud of; that showed Clarke her own strength.  And all of life’s grey areas.  She always felt relieved when she acted on those realizations.  Even when it wasn’t easy, or quick, or painless.  Even when it didn’t have the happiest of endings.  She was always glad it happened.

And so the Hopeful Voice guided her, gently turning her attention to those few, reality altering moments, in that room.

After Lexa left the room that morning at the gym, Clarke had another of those moments; another realization.  This one felt different though.  It was harder to summarize.  She wanted to capture it though.  Wanted to apply a phrase or meaning to it.  So her brain began its normal pattern.  She started to think.  Connect any dots she could find.

She knew she was attracted to Lexa.

_Ha, no shit Sherlock.  That is not a realization._

She was pretty certain that Lexa was at least somewhat attracted to her.

_Didn’t see it coming, but can’t deny it’s here._  

Clarke closes her eyes, picturing Lexa’s pupils widening, inches from her face, as poetry swam through Clarke’s head.

But Clarke wasn’t even sure it was all about Lexa. 

_It was that feeling.  That terrifying, undeniable, aching feeling._

It definitely had something to do with Lexa, but it felt like more than just Lexa.  It was something that Lexa showed her.  Something that, somehow she never really _felt_ , until she looked into those mesmerizing green eyes and wanted to _act_ on her feelings.  She almost did act on them; she almost seized an opportunity and took a plunge.  She almost made a choice.

_And choosing is everything.  Choices are all we have and all we are.  Choices make our life.  Choices make us alive._

And Clarke knew what it was.  She knew what Lexa had showed her.  Clarke had thought about it before, about the nature of it and the theories on it and what it might mean, and what it might not.  But Lexa made her believe it.  Feel it.

Lexa made Clarke feel alive.

Really, truly _alive_.

_Well…That’s kind of anticlimactic…._

But it wasn’t really.

Clarke had gone through the motions for so long.  Making money by working at the coffee shop, avoiding any meaningful interactions, thinking her way out of feeling.  Numbing herself.

Lexa forced her to feel it.  To feel Lexa’s presence.  To feel Lexa’s existence.  To feel Clarke’s own existence. Lexa put possibilities right in front of Clarke’s face.  Choices she could make.  Paths she could take.  Lexa made her buzz with anticipation and excitement and hope.  Just by being near her.

Clarke hadn’t felt that way in so long.  Since before Finn.  If she was being honest with herself, since before her father died.  And back then she was all hormones, anyway.  She wasn’t even sure if her teenage years counted.  She had never felt like she did for those 2 minutes with Lexa. She can picture a moment from her childhood that comes close. 

She was 11.  She was playing soccer.  She had always been one of those kids who loved playing just to play.  Practice, games, anything.  It was always like that, even after her dad…even after Finn.  This memory was her first game on her club team.  Their uniforms were so official and her tight braid made her feel like a warrior.  She sprinted down the field, the smell of grass and sunscreen everywhere.  She shot the ball, it hit the net, and she was floating.  Nothing mattered but the game and playing to exhaustion.  Her parents cheered from the sideline.  Her teammates crashed into her with congratulations and high fives. She was elated; elevated. 

Lexa felt like that…but…more…and less.

With Lexa…there were no game rules or time limits.  There were no teammates or cheering parents.  There wasn’t the thrill of competition.  There was no childhood version of Clarke.  There wasn’t just a win, loss, or tie. 

With Lexa, there was an intensity she had never felt.  There were Clarke’s scars and insecurities and a list of ways she could fuck up that was a mile long.  The life she felt coursing through her veins with Lexa was more intense and full of possibility than anything she felt on that field. 

The possibility for what, she wasn’t sure.  Clarke knew she wanted to be around her. Wanted to learn about her; understand more.  She needed to know more about the girl.  To see if this was all in her head; if Clarke had created something out of nothing.

Clarke was not sure if Lexa felt, or could feel, anything more than lust for her.  She didn’t know if she would even want to a conversation with Clarke.  Clarke wasn’t even sure what Lexa was really like, aside from ridiculously beautiful and knowledgeable about stretching.

_You have barely spoken to her._

The thought strikes Clarke.  She has not spoken to her for more than 5 minutes in the time she has known her.  At first Clarke is slightly panicked by this, thinking the usual thoughts, letting the Cynical Voice cut in, ( _you’re crazy, you let your imagination run away, you’re making something out of nothing…_ ) but then, it hits her…

_You’ve had your realization._

_It’s time to act, idiot._

It was around 4.  Lexa was walking out past the front desk, thinking of how to avoid having to talk to Carli, but she was surprised when she saw Echo sitting at the desk instead.

“So you finally decided to grace us with your presence once again.”

Echo turns to her and gives Lexa an easy, wide smile, leaning her elbow against the desk and raising her feet to rest on the extra chair in front of her.

“Commander.  Did you miss me?”

Lexa smiles. “Something like that.  Where’s what’s-her-face?”

“I let her leave a little early.  Nice to have the desk to myself…flirt with some clients, like old times.”  Echo smirks.  “Haven’t warmed to the newbie yet, I see.”

Lexa just raises her eye brows at Echo.

Echo laughs.  “Okay, I didn’t really expect _you_ , of all people, to become buddies with her.  Not really your ‘type of people’…”  She smiles, letting her smile grow wider. “I’m not sure you have any ‘type of people’, actually.  But your annoyance is humorous.”

Lexa rolls her eyes. “Apparently, my ‘type of people’ are annoying bitches who like to give me shit.  You and Anya should start a club.”

“I like that idea…we can call it, ‘The Commander’s only friends.’  Gonna be difficult to find members.”

Lexa smirks at the jab. “Nice.”

“I thought so.  So are you gonna come out tomorrow night to celebrate my return?  Anya already told me you don’t have class, so no lame excuses.”

“Why are you celebrating being back?  Didn’t you just go on a cruise with your family for a week?  I think you have done enough celebrating.”  Lexa laughs as Echo shrugs her shoulders.

“Obviously, you haven’t ever been trapped on a boat with my mother.  I’m celebrating the fact that I didn’t end up jumping ship…or throwing her overboard.”

Lexa shakes her head in silent laughter at the girl.  She did miss Echo.  She was less serious than Anya.  Brought some levity to the gym.

“I think I can make an appearance.”

“Yes!  I’m going to get you so hammered!”

“Yeah, that is not happening.  But it should be fun.”

“We’ll see little Lexa.  See you tomorrow.”  She waves her out the door as she sees two tall guys walk through the door.  “Got some work to do.”  Echo sends her a wink, and Lexa feels herself laugh as she turns her head and steps outside.

“Hello.”

“Oh.”  It takes Lexa a moment recover from her heart jumping in her throat at seeing Clarke standing in front of her.  Clarke seems unfazed by Lexa’s shock, and stands about 5 feet away, hands behind her back, shoulders held high, gently smiling at Lexa, never lowering her eyes.  This was a little different than how Lexa had seen Clarke before.  She looked oddly confident, though her eyes still shone with constant questions and some kind of uncertainty.  The combination was a little dizzying.

Finally, realizing that ‘oh’ is not an appropriate response, she speaks.  “Hi, Clarke.  How are you this evening?”

Clark’s eyebrows raise slightly and the corner of her mouth slides up infinitesimally. “I’m pretty alright.”

Lexa is thrown by the response and comments without a thought. “Pretty alright?  I’m not sure what that means…it sounds aggressively average.”

Clarke laughs out loud, and Lexa swoons at the sound.

“It does, doesn’t it?  I like it.  It is more interesting than ‘fine’ or ‘okay’ and more honest than ‘great’ or ‘awful’.

“Well that sounds reasonable.”

They stand in silence for a moment.  Clarke is just looking at her with that adorable, tiny smile and Lexa feels unsure of what to do with herself, so she attempts to make an exit.

“Well, I should…” she points towards her car and leans a little forward, but doesn’t quite lift her foot, looking again at Clarke.  She sees the girl’s eyes becoming wider, before her brow furrows in a determined look.

“What are you doing right now?”

“I, uh…” Lexa feels terrified and ecstatic at the question, but she tries not to show it.  “I was just going to head home…maybe study a little.”

“Oh, well…if it’s not super vital studying, I was wondering if you would want to grab a drink with me?  As a thank you for, you know…helping me stretch yesterday.”

“That is kind of my job, you know? Helping people stretch.” But Lexa is amused.

“Right. But that doesn’t mean I can’t express my gratitude.  Who knows how I could have injured myself without your guidance.”  Her tone stays flat and sarcastic, but Clark is smiling widely now, and Lexa knows she won’t ( _can’t_ ) say no.

“Alright.  Where to?”


	5. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One long conversation.

Clarke rubs her thumb up and down over the inside of her pint glass, continuously wiping away the condensation that reappears every few seconds, in the same spot, over and over.  Everything feels very surreal at the moment.  Lexa had actually agreed to have a drink with her.  They met at a bar near the gym, had found a table, had ordered drinks and…now the pre-scripted portion of…whatever this was…was over.  Parking had been discussed.  Table preferences were made known.  Drinks had been decided on and delivered. 

 _Now what?_  Clarke was almost too aware of her hands; of the small size of the table; of the uncharacteristically blank state of her thoughts.

Lexa was sitting in front of Clarke, with perfect posture, one corner of her beautiful mouth raised slightly, and her eyes unwilling to hold Clarke’s for more than a few seconds at a time.  Clarke used this as an opportunity to stare shamelessly.  The girl’s hair, which Clarke had only ever seen pulled back in braids, was in loose curls now, all collected over one shoulder. 

_Didn’t she just come from the gym?  How does she look like this?  I know they have showers and everything but, seriously…_

Lexa’s skin, flawless to begin with, was even more enticing in the soft lighting of the bar.  She wore a black V-neck shirt, much like the shirt Clarke had seen Lexa wear at work, except without the lettering on the pocket.  It was a just a t-shirt.  In no world would it be considered revealing.  But the girl underneath it made every piece of clothing Clarke had seen her in seem…more than it was.  Like everything Lexa wore was just an extension of Lexa’s body; her presence.  For some reason, Clarke’s eyes kept floating over Lexa’s exposed collar bones.

_Am I into collar bones?  I didn’t think that was a thing._

_Apparently it is very much a thing._

Seeing Lexa outside of the gym was intoxicating.  Clarke had maybe two sips of her beer so far, but she already felt lightheaded from just looking at Lexa’s shy smile.  She entertained the idea that maybe Lexa really was some kind of otherworldly being, or a Greek goddess, getting lowly humans drunk on her presence for fun.  Grinning at them; exposing her ethereal collarbones; enjoying the inner turmoil and longing of mere mortals.

_That would be a more comprehensible explanation than whatever the reality was._

_Shut up! You asked her here.  She said yes!_

But now, Clarke was becoming nervous that she had made a mistake.  Lexa was probably bored.  She could be doing so many other things with her time that would be far more fruitful and enjoyable than being stared at by Clarke in a random bar.  The silence was getting to Clarke, though Lexa seemed content to simply grin through it. 

That made Clarke more nervous.  She felt the gears of her mind begin their grind.

Then Lexa spoke.

“So how do you like the gym, Clarke?”

Clarke stared for a moment, making a note of how terribly sexy it was to hear Lexa say her name. 

_And she says it almost every time she speaks to me.  It makes it difficult to focus...but it is also…interesting._

“I like it very much.”  She clears her throat.  “Lexa.”

Clarke could swear she sees Lexa’s eyebrow raise a little and her small smirk stretch a millimeter higher at the sound of her own name.

Clarke loves the feel of it on her tongue.  _Lexa.  Lexa.  Lexa._ She wants to say it again, over and over.

“Anything in particular about it?”

Clarke feels a certain amount of gratitude for the girl’s questions.  She is sure Lexa is just trying to end the silence, but she feels the pressure in her chest lessen slightly.

“I guess…” Clarke thinks for a moment, trying to piece her thoughts together. ”I like the track.  How it’s set up.  Kind of floating up in the air.”  She sees Lexa smile and nod at her in agreement.  She is encouraged.  “And I like testing myself in a quantifiable way.” She watches Lexa quirk her head to the side, gently questioning her with her eyes.  “With weights, I mean…it is like a quantifiable measure of strength.  Of how much strength I can gain over time.  I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I like being able to see progress like that.  It’s so clear cut. Measurable.”

Lexa nods.  “I can understand that.”  Lexa seems to genuinely relate to what Clarke is saying, her eyes watching, glinting with some sort of curious enjoyment, but she doesn’t say more.  Just continues to look questioningly at Clarke.  So Clarke tries to give more, in hopes she can answer whatever questions are dancing behind those eyes.

“I don’t really want to just keep lifting more and more weight just for the sake of lifting, though.  I want to be able to…I don’t know…do something with it.  Like chin ups.  Or rock climbing.  Or be an American Ninja Warrior!” Lexa laughs at that, and Clarkes hears a relaxed chuckle escape her.  “…or maybe just feel good about playing soccer again.”

“I knew it.”  Lexa says it softly, but Clarke doesn’t miss it.

“Knew what?”

Lexa seems to only just realize that she spoke out loud.

“I just...when I first met you, I bet myself that you played a sport.”

“Really?" Clark is surprised. "How could you tell?  I feel like I haven't been in 'soccer shape' for years.” 

“I don’t know.  I see a lot of people come in and work out.  I am a personal trainer, so, obviously, I work pretty closely with many of them.  Most of the people who have spent any serious time on a particular sport or activity, even when they were young, have a certain…confidence.  It’s something about the way you carry yourself I guess.”  Lexa shrugs, seeming to think that is perfectly reasonable explanation.

“Confidence?  Really?” Clarke is a little trying to process Lexa’s words.  “I have never really thought…I don’t know…I always feel so awkward.”

“Well…I can’t speak to how you feel.  Just making an observation.”

“Hmm.”  _So strange.  I walk around feeling one way, certain everyone else sees the same things I do…but I guess I have no idea what anyone else sees…_ Clarke gets lost in thought for a moment.  Her eyes are still looking towards Lexa, but she is in her head.

“Clarke, what are you thinking?”

Clarke flusters and feels her face grow warm.  She focuses on Lexa again, only to find the girl leaning a little closer, bracing her elbows on the table, questioning green eyes wide and burrowing into her own. 

_Nice one, weirdo.  It’s been literally 5 minutes and you are already freaking her out._

“I’m sorry.  Nothing…just being…” Clarke shakes her head. “Sorry.”  But Lexa laughs lightly, and Clarke can only let out a breath of relief and raise her eyebrows, taken aback by the brunette’s reaction.

“Clarke, I’m not annoyed or anything.  I asked because I do actually want to know what you are thinking.  You always look so deep in thought.  I’d just like to maybe get a glimpse of the conversation you are having up there.”  She smiles gently and encouragingly, and Clarke feels her face grow warmer again, a shy smile growing before she could think about stopping it.

“I uh…I mean it’s nothing really.  I was just thinking about how I…how everyone, I guess, sees themselves one way, and assumes that is how everyone else sees them, too.  It’s kind of arrogant though, isn’t it?  Thinking that everyone sees everything, even yourself, the same way you do?  Just makes me wonder how that kind of thinking effects how we do things.  How we act.  How we treat each other.  How we treat ourselves.”

Clarke feels exposed sharing her thoughts.  She hadn’t filtered it and she had rambled longer than she intended.

But Lexa is looking at her, eyes shimmering, and a genuine smile graces her stunning features.  Clarke watches as she looks down, deep in thought, before speaking seconds later.

“Yeah, I guess it could become kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way.”

Clarke feels a spark at the idea.  “Yeah!  Like if you think everyone is judging you, you may react to everyone _as if_ they are judging you.  But if they are doing nothing of the sort, then you just come off as cray-cray.  Then people actually start judging you.”

Clarke is a little embarrassed at her choice to use the term ‘cray-cray’, but she doesn’t have time to kick herself.  The embarrassment disappears immediately what she hears Lexa laugh.

“Exactly.”

They smile at each other for a moment, before Clarke finally gets the courage to ask her own question, suddenly hungry for more of Lexa’s words; more of her thoughts; more of her.

“Well we have established that I see myself as awkward.  How do you see yourself, Lexa?  Any self-fulfilling prophecies in your world?”  Clarke can feel herself leaning forward.  Can feel her eyebrows quirking up and her eye lids softening.  She senses that she is letting some sort of drawbridge down from a fortress in her chest; not necessarily with the question, but with her tone; with her body language.  It is comfortable and familiar.  Like she is talking to an old friend.

And her heart flutters as she sees Lexa look up and to the side, shy smile in place, thinking of an answer.

  _If she really is from another world, using me for her amusement, I will gladly play my part..._

* * *

 

 

 “I guess I tell myself that people suck… and then, I kind of…well…” Lexa considers her words.  ”I act like a bitch.  When people prove my right, it is probably, 9 times out of 10, because they are reacting to me.  It makes it easier to be believe that people suck, but I guess I don’t really know if people suck or not.” 

Lexa is a little befuddled that she has spoken so honestly.  It is something she has always kind of known, but never really put into words or admitted to herself.  And here she is, exposing one of her biggest defense mechanisms to a girl that she barely knows.

 _It feels like I know her._  Lexa had felt so relaxed in Clarke’s presence.  She could barely hold her gaze at first, but slowly, she had been content to just watch as Clarke’s mind raced, comfortable in the fact that Clarke asked her here.  That she wanted to spend time with Lexa.  She wasn’t sure why she felt so serene in Clarke’s presence, but she let it happen.

“Well, I have a secret…”  Clarke leans over table, so that her face is maybe six inches from Lexa’s.  Her face is serious, though Lexa can see that she isn’t.  She sees humor playing behind Clarke’s eyes.  Lexa is struggling to keep her own gaze off of Clarke’s suddenly exposed cleavage as the blonde leans forward, instead, choosing to look directly at her lips as she speaks.  “People do suck.”  Those same lips slowly break into a grin, as she leans back in her chair.

Lexa smiles, feeling laughter in her throat, as she responds.  “Not everyone.”

_Not you._

Lexa feels like Clarke has heard her thought, or maybe Lexa just has it written all over her face.  But she doesn’t really care at the moment.  She is so calm, despite a deep vibration just below her skin.  It feels so easy to talk to Clarke; so natural to speak the truth to her.

And she leans into the feeling.

 

 

A few hours later, the two of them are still there, on either side of the small table. 

They had been talking the entire time.  It was so simple.  They had not touched on many personal details or asked many personal questions.  It just flowed, cascaded…from subject of self-fulfilling prophecies…to a rant from Clarke about the power of stories (in which Lexa was enthralled, and disappointed to not her more of)…to their favorite books…to Clarke’s disbelief that Lexa didn’t watch much television…to a list from Clarke as to why she loved and hated living alone…and it went on and on, like that.  They discussed whatever came up.  Lexa loved hearing what Clarke thought about anything, and Clarke seemed to connect one subject to the next with ease.  Lexa was lost in Clarke’s words; in her unique take on everything.

There were no more awkward silences.  Only comfortable ones. Or tension filled ones.  Clarke did not seem to hold her thoughts back as much now, maybe because of the beer.  She seemed so free and outspoken, far from the shy, nervous girl Lexa had met a week ago.  And she was endlessly curious to hear Lexa’s opinions.  Which Lexa, surprisingly, shared freely, without defensiveness.  Lexa discovered that they definitely did not agree on everything…and it only seemed to add fuel to the fire she felt growing between them.

Both girls are three beers in, and Lexa feels warmth in her finger tips and cheeks.  Each girl is leaning on the table, bracing on her forearms, facing each other squarely across the table.  Clarke is sitting with one leg folded under her to prop herself up a little higher, her voice steady as she continues an argument with Lexa.

“No, I didn’t say that I want to own a gun, Lexa.” Clarke rolls her eyes.

“I just don’t understand how you can say that if guns were banned, violence would not decrease.”

“I didn’t say that! I just said completely banning them, at this point, may not be the best idea, in the long run.  Think about the unrest you could start with something like that.  All those ‘gun nuts,’ as you so lovingly called them, would be proven right and then they have a legitimate cause.  It’s like the beginning of a plot to some terrifying dystopian movie.  It’s way too simplistic to be a feasible solution.”

Lexa scoffed.  “You are one of those sci-fi fanatics, aren’t you?”

“I am not a fanatic!  And that is beside the point.”  Lexa ignores how adorable the she finds the embarrassed pink tinge on Clarke’s cheeks.  “And science fiction is a fantastic way to explore possible ramifications of our collective decisions as a species.”

Lexa rolls her eyes.  “Your opinion cannot be solely based on what you think might happen in a hypothetical future scenario!”

Clarke huffs, beginning to use hand motions to get her point across. “Lexa, in a perfect world, I would say, sure, let’s get rid of every last gun on the planet, and everything would be sunshine and rainbows.  People would probably still be getting run through with swords and whatnot, but no guns would definitely improve things.  But that is not going to happen.  It is kind of ridiculous, if you think about it.  All the events in the history of the human species have created a very particular political and societal climate.  You can’t just change those stories and how they have shaped people.  I am just looking at the world as it is, not as I wish it were.  The more you try to take something away from people, the more they will fight to keep it.  It’s human nature.”

“I’m not saying we should go take them all away!  But can you at least admit that, if there were laws to limit the sale of guns, and they weren’t just available to basically anyone, that it would improve things?  People would get over their crazy ideas soon enough.”

“Lexa, you can’t just belittle people’s opinions!”  Lexa can tell that Clarke is getting worked up.  She is desperately trying to hold her ground against the blonde, but she is also becoming increasingly warm in her belly and weak in her knees watching Clarke winding herself into a tight coil.  “Do you know why people in rural places, all across the country, want to keep their guns, aside from hunting and feeling powerful?  Because they want to be able to protect themselves from a government that has so much power that it could take anything at any time, if it so desired.  It may be a ‘crazy idea’ to you, but If someone believes that could happen, do you really see anyone taking their guns away without it developing, at some point in the future, into some serious civil unrest?  I’m not saying they are right.  Whether the government, or any part of it, wants to disarm them is far beyond my knowledge.  But we are talking about what these people believe, and the stories they will pass on to their children.  What you or I believe does not matter to them.  We have different experiences than them.”

Lexa is frustrated.  They have been having this argument for the past 10 minutes and they are going around in circles.  Clarke never actually gives any solid opinion on the present situation or how to fix it.  She just keeps bringing up ‘what could happen’ and ‘stories’.  And the way she talks about history and society and the future sounds so poetic to Lexa.  She brings up perspectives and the human experience in every argument, and has such compassion and heart for things Lexa sees as insane or just plain wrong.  It continuously distracts Lexa.

_How does she keep doing that??_

She doesn’t seem to be able to make Clarke budge on the subject, and it just keeps making her argue more.  Lexa cannot stop herself.

And as she stares at Clarke, red-faced and digging her heals in, she finds herself extremely aroused.  Clarke is smart.  Like, really smart.  Clever in a way that Lexa has not really experienced before. Her mind is so open and questioning.  And her head is so damn hard.  And she knows how to defend a point.  Even if Lexa completely disagrees with her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are extremely stubborn?”

“No, I have never heard that in my life.”  Clarke maintains a stoic expression for a moment, before a smile slowly appears.  Lexa allows her face to do the same, and she notices their positions on the table.

They are both leaning over the small wooden surface on their forearms.  Their hands are very close; almost touching.  Clarke seems to be breathing heavily from the exasperation of the argument, and Lexa lets her eyes fall to the space between them, quickly trailing them up the girl’s flushed chest, over her neck, along her soft jawline, noticing the pink tint still on her cheeks, until she reaches her eyes.

Clarke has seen her looking and her pupils have doubled in size.

“To be fair, I would probably be arguing with you if you had the opposite opinion as well.”  It sounds like a peace offering, but, to Lexa, it also sounds, somehow, flirtatious.  A dangerous kind of flirtation.  A challenge.

“And why is that?”  They are both speaking in low tones now, their faces inches away.

“I like to argue.”  Clarke shrugs.  “I like to see both sides, and what it is like to battle from each of them.”  Her voice is melodic at this volume; low and warm.  Her eloquence, the way it drips from Clarke’s tongue, seems to surround Lexa. Clarke tilts her head to the side slightly, blatantly looking down at Lexa’s lips before meeting her eyes again. “And to see if you could handle me.”

Lexa swallows.

“I’m a lot to handle, Lexa.”  And Lexa can see some real truth behind Clarke’s obvious innuendo, as she watches blue eyes search her own.  She can see fear mixed with the lust that is clear in Clarke’s eyes.  Lexa considers the idea that Clarke’s intensity scares Clarke as much as it scares Lexa; that Clarke is afraid of being too much.  So, at the risk of breaking the intoxicating tension, or causing it to explode, wanting to pulse with this electricity for a few moments more, she pushes…gently.

“You don’t think I could handle you?”  She smiles with her eyes, and Clarke softens slightly, quirking her eyebrow.  “You know, at work, they call me the Commander.”  She almost regrets letting it slip out, but Clarke’s smile, joined by a barely audible laugh, erase any regret.

“Commander, huh?” 

“Yup.  I am apparently, as Echo puts it, a ‘no-nonsense bitch’ with clients.  But they listen to me.  They follow my commands, usually without question.  Hence, the name.  Trust me, I can handle quite a bit, Clarke.”

Clarke tilts her forehead down, looking at Lexa through her eyelashes, before speaking in a raspy, throaty breath.

“Commander Lexa.”  Clarke seems to be tasting the phrase.  As she sees Clarke run her tongue over her lips, she thinks Clarke must have liked the taste.

_Fuck._

Lexa’s lips part slightly and she cannot move.  She had never really liked being called Commander, but watching it slip out of Clarke’s soft lips has turned her insides to liquid, and she feels the need to cross her legs tightly to contain herself.  

They stare at each other, the warmth in Lexa’s chest growing each second.

Then, suddenly, Clarke breaks the spell, leaning back slightly, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply.

“Lexa, this is really not like me.”

Lexa cautiously leans back as well.  Both girls are still leaning forward though, as if they will miss the words of the other.  “What do you mean?”  She tries to keep any fear out of her voice.

_I fucked it up.  What did I do? Shit, shit, shit…_

“This…” Clarke moves here hand quickly between the two of them “…this is…this feels like…it feels like more that it, logically, should.”

Lexa tries not to laugh.  Not because Clarke is wrong, but because it is such an understatement.

 And this is the most they have spoken about the tension that has clearly not gone unnoticed by either of them. 

“You’re not wrong.”

Clarke just purses her lips, moving them from side to side, thoughts racing, once again, behind her eyes.  Lexa just watches, enjoying the micro expressions on the girl’s face, waiting for her to speak.  Lexa tries not to smile at the fact that she is now certain Clarke _will_ speak.  That, in the past few hours, Clarke has opened up to her; says what she is thinking.

“You know, I don’t really…”  Clarke’s face is suddenly bright red.

“What?”  And Lexa hates (and kind of loves) how badly she wants to know what has making Clarke so flustered.

“I’m not really sure how to deal with…lust.”  Clarke becomes even more flushed as she speaks, avoiding Lexa’s face.  “I mean, I know how to...” Clarke quickly leaves that thought unfinished, shifting uncomfortably. “I cannot deny that…that I am definitely feeling some of that…”  She finally meets Lexa’s eyes, looking away after only a second, slightly shaking her head…looking a little frustrated.  “Well…a lot of that.  But I don’t really want that…I don’t do _just_ lust.  I can’t.  So…”

Lexa is trying to get past the feeling between her legs every time Clarke says the word ‘lust’ and is waiting for Clarke to finish her thought, before realizing she is not going to.

“Clarke.  Hey,” she smiles as Clarke finally meets her gaze. “It’s definitely not one-sided, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Clarke rolls her eyes, as if to say ‘duh’, but grins at the same time.  “Honestly…I don’t usually feel attracted to people physically if there is not something else there.”  Clarke seems to relax at this and Lexa continues.  “And I have had more fun tonight just talking to you, and letting you annoy me, than I have in really long time.  So…there’s that…”

Lexa didn’t know what else to say, feeling more vulnerable than she was used to.

Clarke quickly shifts again, seeming to not be able to hold in her words.  “Could we hang out again?  Would that be okay?  I really like hanging out with you.  Anything else is just…I’m…I’m a bit of a mess, honestly.”

Clarke looks down, defeated, when she says it, and Lexa immediately reaches forward to grab the girl’s hand.  It is the most physical contact they have had all evening and Clarke’s face snaps up at it.

“Clarke.”  She catches Clarke’s eyes and gives her a gentle smile, trying to convey that this is a comforting touch, and that she expects nothing more, though her fingers are tingling at the contact.  “We’re all a little messy, Clarke.”  Lexa gives her hand a squeeze and Clarke smiles shyly back.  “I would love to hang out with you some more.  Though, I should warn you; I have been told that am not the easiest person to be friends with.”  She smirks.

Clarke laughs and Lexa feels accomplished and proud at the sound.

“I highly doubt that.”  Lexa’s heart flutters. “What about tomorrow?”

“That sounds perfect, actually.”  But then Lexa remembers… “Oh shit, I forgot, I’m supposed to go out with some people from work tomorrow.”

“Oh.  That’s okay, we can do it another time.”  Her smile falters slightly.

“Why don’t you just come with us?”  Lexa says it before even thinking, wanting to bring back the light of a full smile to Clarke’s face.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”  Clarke seems unsure and it settles Lexa’s resolve.

“Of course!  They just give me shit the whole time anyway.  It may be nice to have someone on my side, for once.”

“And who says I would be on your side?”

Lexa laughs at Clarke’s playful comment. And, with that, their banter continues, melting into easy conversation once again.

They continue to sit and chat for a little while longer, letting the conversations flow once more.  

Lexa barely even notices that her hand is still securely wrapped around Clarke’s, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having way more fun writing this than I thought I would.


	6. Hold me down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a little Raven, we get some more processing (shocking, I know), some teasing all around, and the group hang begins with a surprise. Finally bringing some skaikru out to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, thank you guys for the comments and the kudos. They make my day. I'm having too much fun with this and I'm glad you enjoy it.

Clarke was sitting alone in the center of the floor of her apartment.  She was staring at the phone, laying on the carpet in front of her.  She had been considering her text for over an hour.  She kept getting up to distract herself every 10 minutes or so, going to organize something, or wash a dish, or watch a YouTube video, only to find herself in the exact same spot, a few minutes later, every time. 

_This is stupid.  Just do it._

**Clarke: Hey, Ray.  How goes it?**

After sending it, she sits the phone down again, nods her head, and sighs.  She didn’t know why it had been so hard to text her.  Not just today, but for the last few months.  Really, it had been a few years since they communicated with any regularity.  She was bad at staying in touch.  She felt the familiar guilt rise up.  It was one of those things that she had never really, fully understood about herself.  She had a trusty list of excuses that she told herself, though.

1\. She _did_ hate phone conversations.

_I need to see a face.  There is so much more going on than words when you talk to someone.  I need the physical part of the conversation or I get too wrapped up in my thoughts._

2\. Having Raven so far away made her a little sad.  Talking to her made that worse.

_I need to stay present.  Focus on how things are, not how I want them to be.  Not wishing I was somewhere else.  I don’t want to spiral down._

There were more…a long list.

But, somehow, Clarke understood that none of them were really...it.  They were only maintaining factors.  _And stupid ones._ The real reason was shame.

_It’s always shame, isn’t it?_

Clarke hadn’t done what she should have when she graduated.  She didn’t look for a well-paying job.  She hadn’t gone for her next degree.  She didn’t really know how to do anything but school, and she was good at school...she needed a break from it.  She didn’t know what she was supposed to do next.  Nothing felt quite right.  She didn’t care about anything enough to make a career out of it.  So she used her usual philosophical reasoning ( _as flawed as it may have been_ ) and decided to just live. 

_Get a job, do what you need to survive, experience things_.  It was a good plan.  She had worked at the coffee shop for a while now, with others who, mostly, seemed to be just as lost, in different ways.  She found side jobs to make extra cash, over the years; walking dogs, tutoring, babysitting…even some temp secretary work.  But she got a little downtrodden when she listened to Raven talk about her engineering career; about how she loved it and how she was doing so well.  She was happy for her.  She really was. Raven was brilliant and deserved all the best things in life.  But Clarke couldn’t help but feel more aimless and worthless after those conversations.  Like she was missing something in her own life.  And she felt guilty for feeling it, and shame for not changing anything.  She always used her introvert status as an excuse, but in her mind she thought she was just…

_Selfish._

But for some reason, when she woke this morning, she thought about her Raven and how she was doing.  Clarke hated that she didn't know; hated herself for not being able to tell her how proud she was of her; to give Raven advice on her (probably ridiculous) love life. ( _Maybe she can give me a clue as to what is going on with mine…)._ Raven was her best friend, and Clarke had been shitty at returning the favor. But hanging out with Lexa had reminded her of how much she missed that connection; just talking to someone who cared about her.  That she cared about. 

_Not that I care about Lexa….or Lexa cares about me…because, I mean, I barely know her._   Clarke knew she was kidding herself, but she felt comforted by the obvious lie.  Somehow a little safer, for a second. 

_She was so sweet though.  And we got along, right?  Really, really well actually.  And she didn’t run away on the multiple occasions that I was so very…Clarke-ish…_

Clarke is brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone.  Surprisingly, the sound is continuous, alerting her to the fact that she is not getting a text, but a call.  From Raven.  She feels the usual uncomfortable pressure at the sound of her phone ringing, but she pushes it down and answers.

“Raven?”

_“Clarke Griffin, as I live and breathe.”_ She hears her smile through the phone and is struck in her gut by how much she missed her voice.  _“How the hell are you?”_

“I’m pretty good, Ray.  How are you?  You could have just texted, you know.”

“ _Oh, I know you are weird about talking on the phone, but get over it!  I haven’t talked to you in forever, and I was actually planning on calling you soon anyway.  I have news!”_

“Yeah?  What’s up?”

_“I’ll get to it, don’t worry.  First things first.  What’s up with you, Griffin?”_

“Nothing much really.  I want to hear your news!”

_“Cut the crap, Princess.  I know when you break radio silence that something is going on.”_

“Can’t I just check in without something going on?”

_“Clarke.”_

“Raven.”

_“Clarke!”_

“What?”

_“Clarke, just save it, okay?  I know you go into your hole for months at a time and get all mopey and Unabomber-y…I have accepted it, and you are honestly lucky I am still your friend after that kind of shit.  But I don’t want to have to go 10 rounds with you to get the info I need, when we both know you are going to spill eventually anyway.  Let’s just save us both some time.”_

Clarke rolls her eyes and keeps her smile on the inside.  _Damn you Raven Reyes._

“Fine.  I really did just want to talk to you though.  I miss you.”

_“I miss you too…but spill.  What has scrambled you enough to get you out of your little metaphorical cave?”_

“It’s not a big deal really…I just….I think I might have met someone…important.  And, I don’t know, I guess I’ve just been thinking about her a lot and…I don’t know.”

Clarke doesn’t hear anything on the other end for a solid 20 seconds.

“Ray?  Are you still there?”

_“Um, yeah.  I guess I’m just…surprised.”_ She hears a chuckle. _“Last time I talked to you, you weren’t exactly leading the most positive, social lifestyle. Is it someone from the coffee place?“_ She can hear the slight hesitation in Raven’s voice. 

_“_ Calm down, Raven.  It’s not.”

_“Ohthankgod.”_

“Raven.”

_“Look Clarke, I know some of them are okay, but you have told me some pretty sketchy stories about that place.  I just, don’t want to see you…you know.”_

Clarke did know.  Raven didn’t want to see a repeat of Finn.  Brooding, interesting, fun, emotionally crippled, and into things that could get Clarke into trouble, in more ways than one.  There were some really great people at her job, but a lot of them were not great company for Clarke to keep with any regularity.  Always wanting to hook up and get fucked up.  The work schedule there allowed pretty regular shenanigans, more than a 9-5 job did.  It’s part of why Clarke chose it. If it were just drinking, weed, and some good, old fashioned hallucinogens, Clarke could make it work, and she had for a while.  She had made some pretty close acquaintances (she wouldn’t go as far as friends), particularly with the self-proclaimed pot-heads.  They would go out, have a good time, and get a little weird.

But, for Clarke, it wasn’t sustainable.  She wasn’t content to wander aimlessly, and it started weighing heavier on her the further in she got.  She started hanging with them, and then their friends.  Quite a few of the crowd were into harder drugs and all that brought with it, which, for Clarke, included memories that she wasn’t keen on bringing up or repeating.  Clarke used to be drawn to the excitement of the scene; the danger.  Wanting to understand it a little better, even experience it.  See the good in even the most self-destructive people and situations.  That’s how she met had Finn.

But that wasn’t who she was anymore.  She had discovered a long time ago that she was just trying to hide old pain; to get lost somewhere.  Away from the death of her father…and then later, away from memories of Finn.  But she had found herself, and she didn’t want to get lost again.  Not like that.

“I know, I know.  I get it.  But, there’s no need to worry.  Lately, I pretty much stick with hanging around work people solely at work.  I actually met this girl at the gym.”

_“The gym?  Really?”_

“Why is that so shocking?  I work out!”

_“Yeah, but Clarke, I have heard you give several angry rants about gyms.  One was about how they make you pay to do what you can do at home.  I believe most of the others involved something vaguely feminist…I don’t remember the details.  You do tend to go on and on…”_

“Hey!”  She laughs to herself.  “That was a long time ago, okay?  Things change.”

_“Okay, okay.  So what about this girl has got you actually talking to me?”_

Clarke feels a pang of guilt.  “Look, Raven…”

_“Clarke, don’t okay?  It’s fine.  I understand…sort of anyway.  I know you.  And I’ll be giving you the opportunity to make it up to me soon.”_

“What does that mean?”

_“Well seeing as you are clearly intent on changing the subject from your mystery woman, I guess I can spill.  I’m moving back.”_

“What!?  Raven, are you serious?  Is this a joke?”  Clarke knew she was borderline shrieking into the phone, but she couldn’t help it.  She was truly overjoyed.

She can hear Raven laughing on the other end of the line.  _“No, it’s not a joke.  My company is transferring me to their headquarters there.  Got a promotion and everything!  And I know you live alone and probably love it, knowing you, but I was wondering if you wanted to be my roommate?”_

“Really?  I mean, I would actually love that, but don’t you want a place on your own? You can probably afford it with the promotion, right?”

_“Yeah, but…I don’t know.  It would be good to save a little money and…I think it would be fun or whatever.  I get weird when I live alone.  We always made good roommates…you’re like...my sister.”_   Clarke smiles when she hears Raven’s voice falter.  She knows she is a big softy on the inside, but she rarely lets it show.

“Yes, of course I’ll live with you, idiot.  Living alone is getting pretty old anyway. My lease is up this month, so it’s kind of perfect timing…and you’re my family too Ray.  You know that.”

“Oh, geez Clarke, don’t get all sappy on me.  You have a girlfriend!”

“Shut up!  And, no I don’t!  She is not my girlfriend, she is just a friend.”

“A friend?  You are sure worked up about someone who is just a friend?”

“Yes, a friend.  I only met her like 2 weeks ago.”

_“2 weeks!  Seriously?  She must work fast…”_ And she hears it again.  The hesitation behind the humor.  She had only known Finn for a month before basically moving in with him and bailing on all of her friends for a whole year.  Raven was there.  She remembers.

“I know, but she is…different.  We are just friends, and maybe that is all it will be, but…I don’t know, it feels…like a big deal." Clarke doesn't know how to explain it, so she saves it for another time.  "Big enough to get my head out of my ass and call you, anyway.”

She has to hold the phone away from her ear when Raven cackles through it.  She laughs for a while and Clarke joins in, loving how easy it is to just slip back into how they used to be; how they have always been.

_“Okay, well, I want to meet her.  Size her up.  Make sure she’s up to snuff.”_

“I’ll allow it…if you promise to behave.”

“ _Always, Princess.”_   Clarke can practically hear the wink _.  “So anyway, I move in a month, but I am flying down next weekend to look at some apartments.  Now that you have agreed to this, you have to come with! You don’t get a choice.  And I will be planning on meeting this girl…what’s her name?”_

“Lexa.”

_“Oh my god, I already want to vomit.”_

“What?!  Why?”

_“You say her name like you have fucking cartoon hearts for eyes.  Which you very well could.  I can’t see you right now.”_

“I do not!  She just has a good name.  That’s just how it sounds.”  Clarke is blushing furiously and is thankful Raven cannot see her at the moment.

_“Whatever Princess, I see right through you.”_

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  So next weekend.” Clarke was eager to change the subject.  “Give me your flight info.  And get pumped!”

***

After Clarke hung up with Raven, she found herself in an excellent mood.  She felt lighter. Relieved.

And she wasn’t nearly as nervous about the night out with Lexa ahead of her as she had been about asking Lexa for a drink the day before.

Not to say she wasn’t a little terrified.

Their visit to the bar had gone better than Clarke had expected.  It was also much more than she had planned for.  Which was good…and threw her off.

She had not planned to let any sexual tension enter into their interaction, if she could help it.

_Well, with Lexa, it’s pretty inevitable so…nice try._

She had not planned to have an argument about something as polarizing as gun laws.

_Yeah, that was stupid. Nice one._

She had definitely not planned to let her guard down so completely.

_Yeah, you are screwed._

But Clarke couldn’t be upset.  Lexa didn’t run away.  She wasn’t too intense for Lexa ( _yet_ ).  The way Lexa had looked at her made her feel like she would just float away, at any second; that any worries that she had been carrying around, that weighed her down, were pointless to hold onto now, because Lexa was watching and she didn’t seem to mind any of Clarke’s oddities.  She even seemed to be into them.  She listened to Clarke talk and looked like she never wanted her to stop.  It was almost overwhelming.  She hadn’t even realized how much she loved expressing herself like that; so openly; engaging so fully with another person.  By the end of the night, holding anything back seemed silly.

_But that’s how we are meant to be.  We are social creatures.  Our thoughts go on in others, even after we are gone, but only when we share them.  Inside they fester; outside, they flourish. And Lexa wanted me to share myself with her. She was actually interested in all this crazy shit in my head._

_It was kind of amazing._

Clarke had gotten lost in their conversation.  She was enamored with how Lexa thought.   She was so straightforward and sure of herself.  She was reasonable and logical.  Practical.  She considered the things Clarke said, and tried to understand.  She felt steady and sure, like something that could weather a storm or anchor a ship.  Grounded and unwavering.  Like she would tether Clarke to the ground to keep Clarke from floating into space.

Her eyes, when Clarke had finally caught them, were sharp.  They had pierced Clarke every time they met her own.  It felt as though they left had left a hole inside her chest.  But Clarke didn’t want plug the hole, or cover it up.  She wanted to take a sledgehammer to it and bust it wide open.  A hole large enough for Lexa to crawl into.

And Lexa pushed Clarke.  Clarke was used to being able sway others, on those rare occasion that she had such an interaction with someone.  Lexa didn’t bend so easily, though.  She questioned Clarke.  Asked her to explain, to show her work.  Lexa was like a tree that had roots wound around her beliefs, tangled in her thoughts.  They were something that she had grown around, that had become part of who she was.  Clarke could see it in the way she seemed so certain when she spoke.  So honest.  So solid. 

And Clarke found that she was winding herself up, and letting herself uncoil, over and over again.  Testing Lexa’s boundaries; trying to read the tiny movements in her face, in the minuscule movements of her eyes.  Bathing in her reactions and responses.

_And let’s not forget the nickname…_

_Commander. Commander Lexa._

Clarke smiled widely thinking of it.  When she heard it, she felt that it suited the girl.  But when she said it out loud, watching Lexa’s reaction…it was dizzying.

Lexa looked physically effected.  As if Clarke had reached out with that single phrase and nibbled her ear; licked her pulse point; gripped the skin of her hip.

The fact that Lexa was so clearly turned on by those words made her even more attractive.

And having that effect on Lexa - seeing such a steady, unwavering presence, come undone at a few words spoken from Clarke's lips - made Clarke feel sexier than she had ever felt in her life. Than she ever thought she could feel.

She was glad that she had been able to slow things down, actually thankful for her panic for once.  She had needed to step back, to collect herself.  Because she wanted to dive in, head first.  She wanted to grab the back of Lexa’s neck and pull those pouty, full lips against her own.  She wanted to taste her tongue and have her way with her right there on the table.  To touch everything, drown in heat, whisper ‘Commander’ in her ear, and hear her moan at the sound.

_Holy shit, get it together…damn…_

Clarke breathed.  Lexa made things complicated.

She knew she wanted to go slow, to make sure.  She had screwed herself over before.  And honestly, she was already a little emotionally attached to Lexa.  She didn’t want to lose her by going too fast.  And she didn’t want to lose herself.

_That is really the ‘thing’ is, isn’t it?  The thing that’s holding you back. You have come so far.  You thought that you could be you, without having to prove it to anyone else. That you were above such weakness…such vulnerability._

_But it isn’t weakness. It doesn’t feel like weakness._

_Is it weakness?_

She had convinced herself that it was.  But with Lexa, it felt different.  It felt like power.  She felt more like herself talking to the girl than she had in a very long time.  Like Lexa was a safe place to just be.  To free herself.  She felt secure and warm, but wild and unbridled.  And when she freaked out a little, Lexa didn’t flinch.  She calmed her and held her hand and made her feel that it was okay to…feel it.  Okay to voice it.  Okay to be scared.  Okay to go slow.  Okay to choose, and live with the choice.  Okay to just be, however she wanted to be, and not have to be something else.

She was already getting over how fast it had gotten so real.

_We are what we are._

But she doesn’t know what will happen next; what will happen tonight.

And for once, she was okay with not knowing.   Because she gets to see Lexa.

And her thoughts calm.

* * *

 

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Lexa rolled her eyes.  “With that face.”

Anya just raised her eyebrows.  “This is just how my face looks.”

“It’s not a big deal, okay?  Can I not invite a friend to hang out with us?”

“You can do whatever you like.”

“Okay then.” 

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Lexa scoffs. “What is wrong with what I’m wearing?”  She tried to hide the panic in her voice. 

“I just thought you might want to spice it up a little.  Seeing as you are trying to impress someone.”  Anya’s face is still serious, only the slightest hint of a smile indicating that she is trying to get a rise out of Lexa.

“I’m not!  She’s just a friend, okay?”

“Lexa.  You are wearing eye-liner.  And you do not have friends.”

“Oh, thanks for that." Lexa shakes her head, and continues to organize her notes to prepare for a studying session tomorrow.  "And I have friends.  You are my friend.  Lincoln is my friend.  Echo, Ontari, Emori…”

“We do not count.  Lincoln and I are as good as related to you…and the same could be said for the others.  If we were not family, I doubt we would be friends, Lexa.”

“What?  Why not?”  She is a little offended.

“Lex, you are not friendly.  You barely talk to people usually.  And, let’s be real; I am a bit of a bitch.  You know it would never happen.”  Anya shrugs.  “I love you.  But it just wouldn’t.”

Lexa rolls her eyes and ignores the last statement.  “Well, you are right about one thing. You are a bitch…”

Anya just laughs.

“This girl is not your friend.  You have been fucking _smiling_ all day.  It’s freaking me out.  And you made me a sandwich, for christsake!”

Lexa scoffs. “I promise I will never life a finger for you again.”

“Lexa.  Just admit it.”

“I will not.”  Lexa busies herself with straightening her textbooks on the table, avoiding meeting Anya’s eyes.

“It’s okay, you know.”  Lexa finally looks up.  Anya’s face is still sharp, but her eyes are kinder.  “It’s okay to like her.  You aren’t 17 anymore.”

“I am aware.”  She means for it to sound snarky, but it just sounds nervous.

They are brought out of their conversation by the ding of Anya’s phone. 

“It’s Lincoln.  They are already there.”  She smiles.  “I guess Echo is already lining up a shot for you.”

Lexa laughs.  “Oh, Jesus.”

“Let’s go, Lovergirl.”

Lexa rolls her eyes again, but cannot help the bubbling in her stomach as she walks out the door.

* * *

 

Clarke finds the address, parks in a nearby parking lot and walks to the underwhelming sign on the corner of the building.  If she didn’t know that the name of the place was Drop Ship, she would assume she was mistaken.  There is no door under the sign, only a set of stairs that looks like it leads to the basement of the building.  Reluctantly, feeling as though she is in the opening scene of a horror movie, she begins her decent.  Halfway down, she calms as she hears music through the wall.  When she reaches the solid black door, she pulls it open, and sound comes rushing out at her as she walks over the threshold.

For a bar that is hidden underground, there are a surprising number of people here.  It has the feel of the pub she was in the night before, very casual and relaxed, but there is no wood finish or Guinness or Smithwick’s signs on the walls.  There aren’t even matching tables.  The actual bar runs along the entire length of a very long wall, almost overflowing with various kinds of beer taps, and the wall behind it is covered with the usual collection of liquor, displayed on shelves.  There is an area in the corner with a couple of pool tables and a few dart boards, booths along one wall, and mismatched tables and chairs scattered in the middle, with no real pattern to them. 

Her eyes are immediately drawn to Lexa, through the crowd, sitting on the very edge of the corner booth, surrounded by a collection of gorgeous people.

_Why am I not surprised?_

She takes her in, before she is spotted.  Her hair is down again, as it was the night before.  She is wearing black skinny jeans, with slip on sneakers, and a loose fitting tank top.  _Simple but perfect._ Her arms are exposed and Clarke runs her eyes up the length of them, noticing the black ink in patterns on the back of the arm closest to her, adorning the toned muscle so perfectly that Clarke lets out an unexpected sigh before she can stop it.  As her eyes glimpse Lexa’s face, she notices that she does not look amused and is shooting daggers at Anya, who is sitting across the table from her, smirking.  Lincoln is clearly trying to hide his amusement, as two girls next to him, one blonde, one brunette, are holding nothing back, heads thrown back in laughter that can be heard across the room.

Suddenly Lincoln spots her, grin breaking into a wide smile, and he gives her a wave.  Lexa’s eyes shoot in her direction, and she is up and out of the booth, standing in front of Clarke, before the blonde knows what has happened.  Clarke takes in the breathtaking smile on Lexa’s face, noticing that Lexa is wearing eye-liner, which makes her eye's pop.  Clarke gets a little stuck in the moment. 

She thinks, suddenly, of her running path in the nature park near her apartment.  When she runs at mid-morning, and comes to a curve in the path.  As she moves through it, the sun comes out through a break in the trees.  It turns deep, shadowy forest-green leaves into vibrant yellows and bright emeralds.  It brings life to the forest.  It gives Clarke a similar feeling to the one that is currently expanding in her chest.

_It’s like the sun came out._

Thankfully, Lexa seems just as stuck, for a moment. 

“Hey,” Clarke manages, bringing Lexa out of her daze. 

“Hey.”

She is unsure if she should hug her… or shake her hand ( _that doesn’t seem right_ )…she even considers a high five. 

_I know_ …

She bows.  As she comes up, she can barely contain her smile at the look on Lexa’s face.  It is crimson, but still shining brightly, a slight roll in her eyes.

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”  She pauses, as the two stare at each other for a beat.  “How are you, Lexa?”

 “Much better, now.”  She watches as Lexa’s cheeks darken, but she smiles back fully, not hiding the blush.

_God, she is adorable._

Clarke looks over Lexa’s her shoulder and sees four sets of curious eyes trained on her, paired with several not-so-subtle smirks.

“Why are your friends looking at me like that?”  It is making her a little nervous.

Lexa looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes, looking back at Clarke.  “I’m sorry about them, they are just….ignore them.”

Clarke laughs, enjoying how uncomfortable Lexa looks.

Lexa just moves past it.  “Would you like a drink?”

“Definitely.”

Lexa places her hand gently on the back of Clarke’s arm and guides her to the bar, as if she has done it a hundred times before.  Clarke revels in the familiar touch.  As they reach the bar, Lexa leans against it, as they wait for the bartender, who is dealing with customers at the other end.

“So, how was your day, Clarke?”  Clarke feels fuzzy when she hears the genuine tone in Lexa’s voice.

“It was actually…really great.  I talked to my friend Raven and found out that she is moving back to town.  It looks like I’m not going to have to live alone anymore.”  Clarke smiles, thinking about the conversation with her friend again.  “It was really nice to hear from her.”

“That’s awesome!  Why is she moving?”

“Oh, she is kind of this badass aerospace engineer and she got promoted.  I guess the headquarters is here, so, I lucked out.”

“Impressive.  You guys are pretty close?”

“Yeah.  Well, I haven’t really talked to her in a while…but she’s like my family.  Every time we talk it’s kind of like no time has passed.  It will be nice to have her around again.”

The bartender finally makes her way to the girls.  “Hey, can I get you guys something…Clarke?!”

Clarke peels her eyes away from Lexa, and looks up at the bartender when she hears the familiar voice.

“Octavia!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really excited to write some Octavia and Raven stuff. They are my third and fourth faves.


	7. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lincoln and Octavia flirt, Clarke and Lexa finally get some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. Its about damn time. Enjoy.

“Octavia?!”

Lexa watches as the two girls stare at each other for a moment, before breaking into laughter and managing an awkward hug over the bar, murmuring ‘oh my god!’s and ‘how are you?’s, eventually sliding back to either side.

Lexa eyes the girl.  She is unbelievably attractive.  Long dark hair, striking features; bright hazel eyes.  She actually looks like she could be a on the cover of a magazine.  She can see a few guys around the bar noticing the same thing.  Lexa can barely appreciate it, though, immediately trying to gauge the interaction between the girl and Clarke.  Clarke looks genuinely excited to see her, which makes Lexa smile a little.  And have a tiny twinge of something in her stomach.

 _Jealousy?_  

_Weird._

“How…What…you work here?”  Clarke seems at a loss.

“I just help out occasionally.  When Bell needs me.  I’m actually a coach at Ark now.”

“What?  You’re coaching?  Like… guiding impressionable youth?  Who let that happen?”  Clarke laughs and, maybe it is because she had been so excited to see Clarke all day, but Lexa is thoroughly enjoying just watching the girl converse so easily and excitedly.  She can’t help but stare.  _It’s nice_ , Lexa thinks.  _She’s so beautiful when she’s relaxed like this._

_Focus._

“Har, har.  Very funny Griffin.”

“I mean you are an expert at some important techniques…like how to avoid yellow cards by waiting until the ref isn’t looking?”

“Hey! That only happened…a handful of times.”  The girl does not look ashamed, grinning to herself.

Clarke laughs again, apparently struck by a thought.  “Did you say Bell works here?  As in Bellamy?”

“He actually owns this place.”

“Wow!  Bellamy Blake, owner of a business, who would have thought?”  Clarke looks around behind the bar, as if expecting to see someone come out of the employee area in the back.

“He isn’t here now, but he’ll be excited when I tell him you were here!  He has missed you…we both have.”  They share a sad look, before Octavia continues.  "Plus, he likes to brag about his status as ‘small business owner’ whenever he can, to anyone who will listen.”  Clarke laughs at this.

Octavia sees a few guys at the other end of the bar waving her down to order, and she gives Clark and apologetic look.  “Looks like duty calls.  Oh, shit.  I almost forgot.  What are you guys having?”  Lexa sees Octavia look at her curiously, and realizes they haven’t been introduced, but she just looks back, as friendly as she can, though still straight-faced, hiding her own curiosity.  Neither pushes Clarke for an introduction.

They order their drinks and let Octavia get back to work, Clarke encouraging her to find them if she gets done before they leave.

“Wow, Octavia...”  Clarke says it to herself, as they walk back towards the table.  “I can’t believe she’s here.  It’s so random.  I haven’t seen her since high school!  We used to be pretty inseparable.”  Clarke seems lost in thought for a moment, before she realizes they are approaching the table where Lexa’s friends are still sitting.

Lincoln speaks before anyone else has a chance.

“Clarke! Hey, um…” Clarke seems surprised and amused at Lincoln’s excitement to see her, and Lexa is just as confused for a moment, before the reason becomes clear.  “Do you know her?”  Lincoln points towards the bar.

Anya makes him jump when she exclaims, “I knew it! You weren’t ‘looking to see what whiskies they had’ (she throws in air quotes, clearly enjoying Lincolns growing embarrassment)…you were checking out the bartender.”

“I was looking to see what whiskies they had, and just happened to notice that Clarke knew the bartender.  That’s all.”  Anya is interrupted from her teasing, by Clarke.

“Yeah, Octavia is an old friend of mine.  We played soccer together growing up.”

Lincoln just nods his head, thinking, as he glances over to the bar, trying to be nonchalant.  “Cool, cool.”

“Aaaanyway”  Echo breaks the silence.  “Clarke!  I’m Echo!  So nice to meet you!”  Echo half stands, as much as she can behind the table, and sticks her hand out to shake Clarke’s, smiling widely, mischief in her eyes.  Clarke shakes back.

“Nice to meet you Echo.”  Lexa can see that Clarke is a little uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on her.

“I guess you know Lincoln.  This is Anya, and Emori.”

Emori smiles and gives a little wave, and Anya just gives a short nod, and the smallest of grins, not hiding the appraising look in her eye as she stares at Clarke.

“We are celebrating ME tonight!  And I’m so glad you are joining us!”

Lexa and Anya let out a burst of scoffing laughter at the same time. “We are not celebrating you, Echo.”  Anya shakes her head as she speaks.  “We are celebrating not having to cover your clients anymore.”

“I know you missed me Anya.  You don’t fool me.”

“Sure, E.  I don’t know how I made it through.” Anya says it with a deadpan expression, and Echo laughs.

Lexa turns to look at Clarke, who is watching the interaction intently, laughter in her eyes.

Suddenly, Lincoln speaks.  “We should play pool!”  Anya gives him a curious glance before, shrugging.

“I’m in.”

Lexa hesitates, knowing her competitiveness is not her most attractive feature…

 _But winning is good…_ She smirks, “Clarke?  Wanna play?  You can be on my team.”

Clarke smiles, “Sure.”

“Me an Emori will sit this one out.  I think we are going to mingle a little.”  She sees Echo glance over at a few guys across the room, and rolls her eyes.

“Alright!  Teams of two it is!”  Lincoln shuffles them out of the booth.

***

It becomes clear, almost as soon as they make it to the pool table, that Lincoln made this suggestion to get closer to the bar and have a more clear view of Octavia.  And Anya, as his teammate, is thoroughly annoyed at his distraction.

“Lincoln, Jesus, it’s your turn!  And try to focus this time.  You just have to get the eight-ball in and we’re golden.”

Lincoln pulls his eyes away from the bar and huffs.  “I got it.”  He circles the table, considering his shot carefully (too carefully, Lexa thinks, as it is a pretty straightforward shot).  Lincoln’s back is to the bar now, and Lexa smiles broadly seeing a certain bartender approaching the pool table.

“Be careful Lincoln.  The smallest mistake will keep you up later tonight.”  He looks up at her, questioning her strange comment with his eyes, but she is satisfied that she has stalled him just long enough.

As he pulls his cue back to make what should be an easy shot, Octavia appears next to the table, greeting Clarke.

“Hey, I got done a little early!”

Lincoln, somehow, pops the ball slightly into the air, missing the eight ball entirely.  They all watch as the cue ball bounces across the table and lands in the pocket.

Lexa and Clarke laugh loudly, giving each other a quick high five for their victory, and Anya drops her cue stick on the table in frustration and heads towards the bar.  “I need another drink.”

Lincoln is caught between embarrassment and shock, as he stands up straight, clears his throat, and surprises everyone by jutting his arm straight out in front of him towards Octavia.

“Hello.  I am Lincoln.”

Octavia looks down at his hand, and up at his face, still surprised but clearly intrigued.  She reaches out as well.

“Octavia.”  She pauses and grins.  “Nice shot.”

Lincoln just gives a nod, a slight blush to his cheeks and manages a “yeah” before they all migrate to stand around the high table that they have been keeping their drinks on.

***

They have been standing around the same table for an hour, chatting easily.  Anya had stayed at the bar, talking with Echo, Emori, and a few guys that were following them around. 

 _She is probably still annoyed at Lincoln’s mistake_ (Lexa wasn’t the only one with a competitive streak). 

Lexa had watched as Clarke and Octavia caught up for a while, discussing Octavia’s job, humerous high school stories, and silly things that Lexa knew only close friends could discuss at such length.  She ignored the slight tinge of envy in her stomach seeing the familiarity between them, and was content to just watch them interact, enjoying the excuse to blatantly stare at Clarke.  

Her hair was relaxed and slightly wavy, hanging around her face, gently covering her shoulders.  Lexa thought she looked so natural and relaxed.  It was still shocking to Lexa that Clarke had no idea how gorgeous she was, while Lexa was painfully aware of it every time she saw her.  She was wearing a white tank top under a bright blue and green plaid flannel shirt that really brought out the color in her eyes.  The relaxed smile covering her face broke into an easy laugh every few minutes at Octavia’s words, and every time Lexa saw the transition, she felt her own smile widen. 

 _When she smiles, I smile._    

_Weird._

She was not sure how she felt about such an automatic reaction. 

 Lexa held in a chuckle when, at one point, she looked up at Lincoln.  She saw a look that likely mirrored her own, as he stared at Octavia, hanging on her every word.

Eventually, when Lincoln edged his way into the conversation and pulled Octavia’s focus towards him, Clarke met Lexa’s gaze.

“Sorry.”  She looked down at the table.  Lexa was confused.

“Why?”

“I mean, I came here to hang out with you, and I feel like I have been talking to Octavia the whole time.”

“Clarke, it’s totally fine.  I’m having a good time just being around you.  And you came here just to hang out, remember?  A normal, no pressure hang out, with friends.  And that’s what you have been doing.  I can tell you and Octavia have a lot to catch up on.  And we did get to kick some ass in pool, so it’s definitely been a good night so far.”  She enjoys the way Clarke is looking at her, all brightness and warmth.  “Plus,” she lowers her voice a little, “I think Octavia might be a little distracted for a while.”

They both glance up at Lincoln and Octavia.  The girl has turned fully towards him now, standing much closer than before, their voices low.  She seems engrossed in whatever Lincoln is saying.

Lexa watched as Clarke shook her head lightly and laughed.  “Looks like it.  That was fast…though Octavia always did have a way with the boys.”

“You want to grab a seat?”  Lexa motions to a small table that is off to the side of the pool tables. 

“Yeah, that would be good.”

As they sit, Lexa is struck, once again, that they have only had one, maybe one and a half, real conversations before today.  It doesn’t seem possible.

“You know, this all feels very…normal.”

“What do you mean?” Clarke questions.

“I mean…hanging out with you, here, with my other friends.  It’s strange how normal it feels.  I don’t usually feel this comfortable around people I just met.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Lexa can’t stop the laugh that escapes her mouth.  Clarke looks surprised.

“What?”

“I…I don’t know.  You said that you aren’t good with people yesterday, and I totally believed it at first.  You were so shy and nervous when I first met you, and you didn’t really speak for the first half of the pool game just now…but when you _do_ speak to people, it’s so…it seems so easy for you.”

Clarke just looks at her in disbelief.  “I would have to definitely disagree.”

“I’m not saying you don’t _feel_ uncomfortable, but…maybe it’s because you are always watching so closely, I don’t know…you seem to have an instinct about how to approach people that I have never possessed.”

“An instinct?”

“Yeah.  Like, with Anya…most people piss her off or annoy her almost immediately after speaking to her.  But you seemed to automatically know when to hold back, and when to speak.  What to say and what not to say.  I think she actually likes you.  And considering that you have only interacted in the context of a competitive activity, that’s kind of huge.”

Clarke giggles at this. “It really doesn’t seem like she likes me that much…”

“Oh, trust me.  That was friendly Anya.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.  And with Lincoln…he seems to already have warmed to you.  Not that he isn’t a friendly guy, but he usually keeps it very surface-level with people.  He seems so comfortable with you already.”

Clarke shrugs, “He’s really nice.”

“It just…something I have noticed.  I have yet to see anyone have a bad reaction to you, Clarke.”

Clarke grins, her face slightly pink, thinking for a moment.  “You know, I don’t really know how to make small talk.  I hate it.” She shrugs.  “Maybe that’s what it is.”

“Yeah, I could see that.”  Lexa decides not to push the compliment too far, sensing that Clarke will resist accepting it if she does.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Lexa feels Clarke’s eyes on her.

“So you have been paying pretty close attention to me.”  Lexa looks up to see Clarke sending her a flirtatious grin.

“I guess so.  It’s kind of difficult not to.”

Clarke holds her gaze for a long time, as if she is considering something important.

“Do you want to get out of here?  Maybe go for a walk?”

She doesn’t even have to consider her answer.

“Yes.”

* * *

 

After saying goodbye to everyone and making plans to meet up with Octavia later in the week, Clarke follows Lexa out of the bar, up the stairs, and into the street.  It feels nice outside, and Clarke closes her eyes and breathes deeply, enjoying the slight breeze and the smell of the nearby trees that fills her lungs.  The weather has changed recently, cooling down slightly, and Clarke feels a shiver of anticipation that it will soon be fall.  She’ll be able to wriggle into a warm jacket, watch the green of the leaves change to bright oranges and yellows, and let the warmth of her morning coffee heat her from the inside.

She is brought out of her thoughts by another warmth that starts in her in her fingers, covers her palm, and spreads up her arm, expanding in her chest.  It makes its way through her stomach, shooting through her legs, tingling her toes.

She looks down and finds Lexa’s hand in her own.  A few days ago, it may have scared her, or sent her thoughts into overdrive…or put her into a lust-fueled haze.  But she feels so content at the moment.  She doesn’t even mention it.  It seems so natural. 

Something has shifted between them.  It didn’t feel like just a lust anymore ( _did it ever…really?_ ).  It didn’t feel just like a spark or a gaze held too long.  Like a blaze that would burn her up and leave her in ruins; in ashes.

_Which is crazy.  It's too soon, isn't it?_

Clarke didn't even care.

It felt right.  It felt like Lexa’s hand did in her own; cautious and gentle.  Not asking too much, but taking a chance and grabbing on to something.  It felt like Lexa’s observations about Clarke; sweet and probing; trying to learn; to understand.  It felt like something between them was melding together, and swelling; budding and growing.  Clarke felt like Lexa amplified her; brought out something she didn’t know was inside her and reflected it back.

_And seriously, Raven and Octavia in the same day…right after Lexa show up…is this the universe talking?_

_Don’t be stupid.  That may be taking it too far._

But she wasn’t sure.  It didn’t feel like a regular occurrence.  _None of this does._   It felt inevitable and surreal.  Epic, in some way, but so comfortable and normal. She still knew almost nothing about Lexa, and knew that Lexa had quite a bit to learn about Clarke.  _But none of it matters in this moment_.  They just existed together, sharing space, grasping hands, feeling the air around them, letting the energy between them simmer and glow. 

_If you cant have the moment, what can you have?_

They walked like that for a few minutes, both staying silent, meeting each other’s eyes every so often: green and blue, lips and cheeks,  blushes and smiles.

Clarke looks around to see where they are.  She recognizes the area.  Its near her old high school. “Where are we going?”

Lexa looks around a second later.  “I, uh…I’m not sure.  I was just going with it.”

She smiles, her look all but admitting that she had been as lost in Clarke’s company as Clarke was in hers. 

Clarke takes in her surroundings for a moment and smiles when she remembers what is near by.

“I know.”

She pulls Lexa along, becoming giddy.  She glances back and sees Lexa’s confused smile.  “Where are you taking me?”

When she reaches the destination she stops, feeling her chest heave at the pride of such an excellent idea.  They look out at a playground in front of them, Clarke taking in all of the options available for the next move; there are swings, a merry-go-round, and a giant jungle gym, shaped like a castle, with monkey bars, a little bridge and a slide coming down from the corner tower.

She looks at Lexa, who is staring at her with an amused expression, clearly visible affection in her eyes.  Before she can become embarrassed, she lets go of Lexa’s hand, immediately missing the contact, and runs towards the ladder that leads to the top of the tower.

“Catch me if you can, Commander!"

* * *

 

Lexa tries to calm her laughter.  Her ribs hurt and she is short of breath, gasping and trying to escape Clarke’s fingers on her stomach.

After chasing Clarke to the top of the tower, down the slide, and over the shaky bridge, she had finally caught up with her in the tiny enclosed space at the top of the slide, gripping her sides, only to find the tables turned a second later, Clarke’s retaliation coming in the form of Lexa’s kryptonite.

_Tickling._

“No! Stop!  Please, Clarke!”  She can barely speak anymore.  “Pleeease!”

Clarke reluctantly slows her movement, grin still wide.  Her face is flushed and she is breathless.  As Lexa relaxes slightly, leaning against the plastic wall of the small space they were occupying, trying to catch her breath, she can’t help but admire how beautiful Clarke looks like this.  When she is so carefree and playful; silly even.  If anyone else had told them to chase them, she would have rolled her eyes and walked away, but she followed Clarke without a second thought.  Clarke notices her stare and speaks to distract from the tinge on her cheeks.  

“You are pretty ticklish, huh?”

“Everyone is ticklish, Clarke.”

“Not that ticklish.”  Clarke smiles at her.  Lexa is suddenly very aware of their proximity and the fact that Clarke’s hands are now resting lightly on Lexa’s stomach.  She can feel their warmth through her shirt.  Clarke is sitting on her knees, having somehow made a space for herself between Lexa’s outstretched legs in the tussle.  Lexa cannot stop looking at Clarke’s lips, but she keeps looking away and tries not to breathe, afraid that Clarke will move away and leave her missing the contact again.  She doesn’t want to push Clarke too far too fast.

Lexa flinches slightly as she feels Clarke’s thumb begin to rub a small circle over her stomach.  Clarke pauses when she feels Lexa start, but continues when Lexa makes no attempt to move.

Lexa fixes her eyes on Clarke’s.  There is moonlight coming through a clear plastic dome at the top of the tiny room they are in, and Clarke’s skin seems to be giving off a blueish glow, her eyes shining back at Lexa.  Suddenly the room is smaller, and Lexa feels it shrinking around them.  It doesn’t feel like it is trapping them, but hugging them closer together, cuddling them.  As if every piece of matter around them is working in tandem with Lexa’s desires; pushing Clarke nearer.  She thinks her mind is playing a trick on her, at first, as she sees Clarke move, ever so slowly, forward.

When Clarke pauses, Lexa looks at her lips again, watches the girl let out a nervous breath that tickles Lexa’s cheek, and finds blue eyes.  They are searching Lexa’s, looking for an answer to a question Lexa doesn’t understand.  She just looks back, wide eyed, trying to hide nothing, hoping Clarke is seeing what she needs to see.

Clarke moves closer again, even slower, making Lexa’s heart ache at the anticipation.  Clarke closes her eyes and brushes her nose against Lexa’s, letting out a ragged breath, causing Lexa to close her own eyes and give herself up to whatever is about to happen, unable to watch anymore; unable handle the buzzing energy shooting off of the girl in front of her.  Without thinking, she slowly brings her hands up to Clarke’s hips, feeling an impulse to touch her; to try to calm her.  Lexa’s eyes are wide again, when she hears a tiny gasp from Clarke at the contact. 

Clarke’s pupils are a little larger, staring into Lexa’s, and still she doesn’t move.  Lexa thinks she may combust on the spot, barely able to contain an unnamable force raging inside her.

Suddenly Clarke licks her lips and closes the distance between them.  Lexa feels soft lips press against her own and they stay there for a second.  Waiting. Lexa notes the warmth of Clarke’s mouth, the slight wetness on her lips.  And then Clarke is pulling back. 

Lexa does not like the loss of contact, but she does not have time to dwell on it, before Clarke’s lips are back again, this time moving against her own.  And Lexa responds.  They are tentative at first, just exploring the feel of lip against lip, of breath against breath.  And then, Lexa cannot take anymore.  She slides her tongue gently against Clarke’s lip and immediately feels Clarke’s own in her mouth.  Their tongues explore and taste and savor.  Their mouths slide and thrust against each other.

And from there, Lexa feels the dam break.

It is slow and undulating, like dripping honey.  Their mouths melt into each other, back and forth, each time, finding a new way to fit together perfectly, to ebb and flow.  Their tongues are pliable, pressing and pushing, giving and taking, wet warmth inundating all of Lexa’s senses.  She is drowning in Clarke’s tongue, in the sweet taste of her lips.  Lexa feels Clarke’s hands wrap around the back of her neck, her warm fingertips sliding up, stroking her hair; gently tickling her the back of her neck. 

Clarke nibbles Lexa’s lower lip and pulls back, stretching it lightly, letting it gently bounce back, only to dive immediately back in and suck the same lip again, softly, but with purpose.  Lexa releases a light moan, and she feels Clarke sigh against her as her tongue slips back in Lexa’s mouth; it is a sigh of relief.  It is a gentle sound that cracks something in Lexa’s chest. 

Because Lexa feels it too.  She feels that this kiss is like coming up for air after drowning; flailing for her whole life in an ocean, finally discovering what it’s like to breathe.  It feels like curling up in a blanket next to a fire, after standing in a blizzard for days.  It feels like she never wants to stop.

There is a hammering in her chest and deep throbbing between her legs, pulsing with desire that she has never felt before.  Clarke continues to nibble and suck at Lexa’s tongue; Lexa’s lips.  It is maddening.  It is dangerous.

 _It is fucking brilliant._  

_I have never wanted anything.  I have never known what wanting is, until this very second._

Her body is no longer her own, driven by the pulsing.  She runs her fingers up and down Clarke’s sides, finally guiding her hips, and they easily shift position, until Clarke is supporting her weight with her knees, straddling Lexa, chests flush against each other.  Lexa can feel Clarke’s breasts, pressed into her chest, just above her own.

Lexa’s hands find their way under Clarke’s flannel, gripping her hips tightly where her tank top meets her jeans.  Clarke keeps one hand behind Lexa’s head, pulling her closer with every kiss, tongue continuing to be everywhere; everything.  Her other arm wraps around Lexa’s shoulders, hugging her close to her body.  The movement spurs Lexa to break the kiss and glide her lips over Clarke’s jaw line, to the smooth expanse of her neck.

_Goddamn, shit, fuck…_

Clarke’s neck is heaven.  Lexa can taste the faint saltiness of Clarke’s exertion as she trails open-mouth kisses up and down.  She hears Clarke’s heavy breathing and feels the muscles in her neck stretch, giving Lexa more than enough space to do as she pleases; to taste every inch of soft skin, licking and sucking wildly.  She finally makes her way to Clarke’s ear and slips the lobe in her mouth, sucking lightly, pulling a whimper from the blonde, causing the ache in Lexa’s belly to grow.  She feels Clarke begin to move; to grind gently against her stomach, before the blonde pulls Lexa’s mouth back to her own and tastes her tongue again.

Her body is on fire as she feels Clarke continue to sensually grind against her, heat radiating from her center against Lexa’s stomach.   

“Fuck.”  It’s a whisper from Clarke, a break in a kiss, but it is almost too much for Lexa.

As if her mind senses the point of no return is approaching, a small ( _so, so stupid_ ) voice, deep in her head, makes its way forward.  She runs her hands up Clarke’s sides and gently pulls them apart, causing Clarke’s lips to leave her own with a wet pop.  Her arms are still around Lexa’s shoulders and neck, but there is some space between them, giving Lexa just enough time to think clearly for a moment.

Lexa looks at the blonde.  She is clearly in a lustful daze.  Her hair is wild, her pupils are giant, and her lips are puffy and red, still pursed slightly, and barely open.  Lexa still feels Clarke’s heat against her stomach.  She closes her eyes lets out a jagged breath, almost losing her will power once again.

“Clarke.  As much as it pains me to say this…” and it really did.  Lexa was throbbing all over and she felt uncomfortably achy and wet between her thighs. “We should probably stop…for now.”

 As she opens her eyes again, she sees Clarke looking at her for a moment, before slowly blinking her eyes a few times, then holding them closed.  Lexa watches, transfixed, as Clarke brings her lips between her teeth.    Slowly, the blonde lowers her forehead to Lexa’s shoulder and exhales, gently running her thumbs on the back of Lexa’s neck.  They stay like that for a few minutes, breaths evening out.  Lexa continues to run her thumbs soothingly across Clarke’s ribs, over her tank top, still underneath her flannel shirt.

Barely audible, she hears Clarke whisper.

“Thank you.”

_And Lexa's heart almost bursts in her chest._

_Weird._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	8. Good, ol' Octavia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa swing on swings and share sad stories. Octavia is Octavia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the last daily posting, as my window of excessive free-time is closing, but it will still be pretty regular, because I cant stop...and I wont stop.

Clarke positions herself at the top of the slide, with her legs in front of her, and smiles when she feels Lexa scoot up behind her.  The brunette’s legs extend on either side of Clarke’s and the blonde feels strong arms wrap around her middle, hugging her tightly.  They both pull themselves farther into the slide until gravity pulls them down the rest of the way, slowly and not without jerky pauses.  They laugh as they have to wiggle their way to the end.  They rest at the bottom of the slide. Clarke lets her legs hang over the edge, setting her feet on the ground.

“I remember slides being a lot smoother when I was 70 pounds.”

“We are two adult bodies, Clarke.  Not a tiny child.  I don’t think this slide was made for us.”

“Yes but, even so…sliding is not what it used to be.”

A shiver travels up her spine as she feels the warmth of Lexa’s throaty chuckle in her hair.

“Yeah…this is fun in a different way though.”  Lexa hugs her a little tighter to her chest and Clarke lets her eyes close slightly, feeling that she might just melt into the warmth of the other girl’s body.

_Oh, that body._

_Don’t go there._

She is grateful to Lexa for stopping them before.

_I wouldn’t have been able to.  I was ready to rip off her shirt and just…_

_Woah, Tiger._

Clarke can’t think about it now…not when she has Lexa pressed up against her like this.  She may lose control again.  She still feels a slight ache between her thighs.  She grabs onto one of Lexa’s hands that lays across her stomach, slowly unwraps herself, and stands up, gripping Lexa’s hand the entire time.  She pulls the brunette up with her and drags her to the swings.  She looks at Lexa and gives her a giant smile.

“Want to swing?”

Lexa grins back and nods.  “Sure.” She looks wistfully at the swings.  “It’s been forever since I’ve been on a playground swing.  I used to always challenge the other kids to see who could jump the furthest.” 

“I bet you did.”

“I'll have you know, I always won.  And I only ate dirt once.”  She points to a small scar on her chin. “I bled everywhere.  Anya laughed and Lincoln was pissed.  It was totally worth it though, just to see the looks on Billy Henderson's stupid, smug face.”  Clarke laughs at the image of a busted up little Lexa, puffing her chest out, reigning supreme over any child who dared challenge her.

“Shall we?”  She waits for Lexa to give a consenting nod and walk to the closest swing.  Clarke follows and they each take their seat.  “Don’t expect a jumping contest from me though.  I think I have had enough excitement for one evening.”  She watches as Lexa becomes flustered, grinning widely, and looks down.

Clarke keeps her feet against the mulch below, swaying back and forth, letting the souls of her shoes drag over the ground, enjoying the weightless sensation that feels like her childhood.  She looks up at the sky and is pleasantly surprised that it is clear.  The stars are extremely visible and she tries to look closer for a moment, seeing more specks of light come into focus the longer she watches.  Her mouth drops open slightly and she feels the familiar sense of awe at the sight of so many stars, knowing that they are really entire worlds, billions of miles away; that the universe is larger than she can fathom.

“It’s beautiful out.”  She says it just as much to herself as she does to Lexa.

“Yeah.”  She looks down at Lexa's soft tone to find Lexa staring at her, her face leaning against the plastic covered chain of the swing.  They hold the eye contact for a moment, before Clarke lets the first thought that enters her head float out of her mouth freely.

“Why did you stop us?  Up there, I mean.  Stop us from…you know?  I mean, don’t get me wrong.  I’m glad you did.” She feels her face get hot. “Sort of…with the rational part of my brain, anyway.”

She doesn’t know why, but she is dying to know Lexa’s reasons, all of the sudden.  After she calmed down and came to her senses, she was thankful, ultimately, that they had stopped.  Clarke wants to go slow…slower than that anyway. 

_Slower than having impulsive, jungle gym sex the second time you hang out with a girl?  Good call._

 She had told Lexa as much, last night.  But she was also concerned.  Worried that maybe Lexa was having a change of heart.  Or that she just wasn’t as into this whole thing as Clarke was.  Because Clarke had been completely, out-of-her-mind, breathlessly, hopelessly lost in that kiss.  And the idea that Lexa wasn’t…well…it scared her a little.

Lexa is looking at her curiously and clearly working out her words.  Clarke watches her face carefully, running her eyes from the questioning, green orbs, as the tiny muscles around them contract in thought; down her perfectly structured cheek bones; to her plump, pouty, slightly open lips, pursed in thought.

“Clarke…” she watches as a beautiful blush makes her way across Lexa’s face, and a small grin turns up the corner of her mouth.  “That may have been one of the most difficult moments I have ever had to endure.  I really didn’t _want_ to stop.”

Clarke lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and shyly smiles back.  Lexa continues.

“But I know you want to go slow.  And I do, too.  I think I kind of…came to that conclusion in the moment, somewhere in my brain.  I want to do this…right.”  She pauses.  “And honestly, we know nothing about each other.  This is the least I’ve known about anyone that I wanted to ravage on playground equipment.”

Clarke chuckles.  They are each leaning towards the other in their swings, both resting their heads on the chains, lazily swaying back and forth lightly, watching the other closely.

“I mean, I feel like I know you really well, in a way.  I know how you laugh.  How you speak.  That you get lost in your thoughts and are infuriatingly good at arguing with me.  But, as far as actual details about your life…” She holds up her fist and begins pulling fingers out as she makes a list.  “I know that you went to Ark High School, that you played soccer, and that you have a friend named Octavia and another named Raven.” She holds up four fingers in front of her and shrugs.  “That’s pretty much it.”

Clarke nods slowly, and tries to think of what she knew about Lexa.

_She works at a gym._

_And...pretty much…nothing. else_

_Except she is one hell of a kisser._

“You know, I think I know even less about you.”  She is surprised by this.  It usually works the other way around with anyone she knows.  “So let’s change that!  Want to play the question game?”

“Question game?”

“The question game.”

“What is the question game?”

“It is exactly what it sounds like.  I ask a question, you answer, then I answer the same question.  Then it’s your turn.”

Lexa considers.  "Okay, I can get on board with that.  Though it doesn't sound like a game, as much as...just asking questions.”

“Yeah, but you take turns!  Okay, you Start.”

Lexa looks startled at having to come up with a question so quickly.  “Um…what’s your favorite color?”

Clarke laughs.  “Really?”

“What?  That’s a valid question!”

“Fine.”  Clarke thinks about it…but all she can see when she closes her eyes is…

”Green….but I like red too…and orange….”

“Clarke.  The term favorite implies ‘one’…”

Clarke just shrugs.  “I’m bad at favorites.  And I love colors.  What about you?”

Lexa doesn’t even pause.  “Blue.”

“Okay then.  We know a little more now.”  She smiles widely, enjoying the look Lexa sends her in return.

“Okay, my turn…” There was so much Clarke wanted to know.  She tried to sort out the most pressing questions in her head.  “How did you meet Lincoln, Anya and all the gym people?”

Lexa sends her a gentle smile.  “Well I met Echo, Emori, and the rest that you haven’t met at the gym. But I grew up with Lincoln and Anya.  Our parents were all good friends and we lived in the same neighborhood when we were kids.” 

Clarke watches Lexa’s smile fall slightly, seeming to gather herself, as she continues. 

“When I was 12, our parents had all been on a camping trip.  We used to go all the time, as a big group…a family” she pauses again, a painful look on her face, “but this was the ‘no-kids’ trip that they took once a year.  Lincoln’s dad had an RV and they took it up to a cabin they shared near Yellowstone.  On the way back, there was an accident…there was a deer or something in the road and they swerved.  Overturned the RV, ran into on oncoming truck.” 

Lexa is looking at the ground now, and Clarke almost tells her that she doesn’t have to continue.  But before she can say anything, Lexa speaks again.  “Everyone except Anya’s mom was killed.  She got custody of me and Lincoln, but she drank a lot after that.  She was never really…the same.  Lincoln was 17 when it happened and Anya was 16.  They took care of me, basically raised me through my teenage years.  Made sure I stayed out of foster care.” 

Lexa surprises Clarke with a small chuckle.  “I was a pretty terrible teenager.  Full of anger and self-righteousness.  And I was being raised by two kids that had their own issues…but, somehow, we got through it and ended up okay.  We’ve been together since.  I can’t imagine what my life would be without them.” 

They sit in silence for a moment, Lexa finally looking up to meet Clarke’s eyes.  She looks more vulnerable than Clarke has ever seen her.  Clarke just looks back, trying to take this version of Lexa in.  Her face looks so fragile, but her eyes look steady; accepting; resigned to reality.  Clarke understands the feeling.

“Thank you.” 

Lexa quirks her eyebrows. “For what?”

“For sharing that with me.  I know it’s not easy to tell things like that to people.  But I appreciate you trusting me.”

“It’s not usually easy…but it wasn’t that hard with you.  I do trust you Clarke.  I guess I kind of wanted you to know.”  Lexa just shrugs and looks up at the sky for a moment.  Clarke follows her lead and does the same, getting lost in the stars again.  They sit like that for a few minutes before she hears Lexa speak.

“So you are supposed to answer the same question, but it doesn’t really apply.  I already know how you met Lincoln and Anya.  So, what now?”

“You can just adjust the question, so that it applies to me if you want.”

“So, basically just ask an entirely different question?  The rules of this game seem very arbitrary.”

Clarke just grins, knowing she can’t argue with that.

“Okay, how do you know Raven and Octavia?”

Clarke smiles at the mention of her friends and jumps right in.  “Well Octavia and I lived next door to each other growing up.  She, I, and her brother, Bellamy, were together all the time when we were little.  Their dad wasn’t around, and their mom worked like two or three different jobs and was rarely home, so they stayed over alot.  My parents helped take care of them pretty regularly.  Octavia is a year younger than me, but she was always amazing at soccer.  When we got older and started playing on club teams, she just played a year up, since she was good enough.  It was mostly so she could get a ride with me to and from practices and stuff, though.  She was my best friend.  We did all the usual stuff; had sleepovers; rode our bikes around; talked about boys…and later, girls.  She’s the first person I told about being bi; I even dated her brother for a couple weeks in 7th grade.”  Clarke laughs at the memory. “It was awful, but he was a freshman in high school, so I felt pretty proud of it at the time.”

“Oh, an older man, huh?”  Lexa raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Ha, yeah.  He broke my poor 7th grade heart when he told me that ‘I just didn’t get how high school worked.’  Octavia didn’t talk to him for a month.”  Clarke can’t help but smile at the memory.  Back then it all seemed so serious and dramatic.  “She always had my back in everything we did.  I was older, and she listened to me, but with everyone else, well…she has a very intimidating presence, when she wants to.  And, oh man, were people terrified of her on the field.  I know she looks small but that girl was vicious.”  Clarke gets nostalgic for a moment, remembering her youth…

_…before it all went to shit._

She knows it’s not necessary to tell more, but she actually wants Lexa to know.  “Anyway, I thought we would be friends forever.  You know, the way teenagers tend to think. Then,” Clarke sighs, “a few days before my 18th birthday, my dad died.  I had always been close to him and it hit me pretty hard.  I kind of shut down from everyone, even my mom.  I stopped hanging out with all my friends, including Octavia.  It was pretty shitty of me, really, because my dad was the closest thing Octavia had to a father, and I know she was hurting.  But I just couldn’t see past my own pain.  My mom tried to get me to stay at home for another year after graduation, but I had gotten into Jaha University and I just…had to get out.  I didn’t even say goodbye to Octavia when I left.”

Clarke takes a break from talking, glancing up at Lexa, who is looking back at her.  No pity in her eyes, not struggling to think of words to say, just steadily holding her gaze, waiting patiently.

_How does she know exactly what to do?_

“So when I went to college, I was not in the greatest headspace.  Raven was my roommate and I hated her at first.”  Clark rolls her eyes.  “Raven was…is…a force to be reckoned with.  She ignored my moodiness, called me on my shit, and forced me to go out and do things with her.  She would just talk over me when I gave excuses for staying in, and eventually, I just went with it.  It was easier.  If she went to a party, I went with her.  If she wanted to take a road trip in the middle of the night, I rode shotgun.  She helped me start living again.  She had no idea about my dad until much later in our friendship, but I don’t know if it would have changed how she acted.  That’s just who she is.  I wouldn’t have gotten through that first year without her.  She became my new home, really.  Just like Octavia, she stuck by me through some really questionable decisions and some really low points.  When we graduated, Raven moved for her job.  We stayed in touch for a while but I kind of…dropped the ball with that.”  She doesn’t allow herself to wallow.  “I’m really glad she’s coming back.”

“I’m happy that she is coming back, too.”  Clarke can see sincerity in her green eyes.  “You seem really excited about it.” 

Clarke just watches Lexa watch her.  She feels little overwhelmed, after unburdening so many painful memories, at the gentleness in Lexa’s face and the serene smile on her lips.  She slowly walks her feet towards Lexa, bringing her swing along, and leans forward to place a soft kiss on her lips.  It is just a few seconds of contact, a far cry from the passion in the jungle gym, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world.  It felt like a _thank you,_ that she needed to give.   Slowly, she let her swing back into its original position, watching Lexa’s face break into a smile.

“What was that for?”

“I just wanted to.”

Lexa puts her hands up in surrender.  “Hey, no argument here.  If all questions end with that, I could play this game all night.”

Clarke didn’t think it was a bad idea at all.

“Okay, it’s your turn, again.  Think of a good one.”

* * *

 

Clarke woke with a smile on her face.  She checked her phone and saw that it was already 11:30 am.

“Oops,” she mumbles into her pillow.  She was going to be late for work if she didn’t get up immediately. 

Still, the worry wouldn’t come. 

She got out of bed, shuffled to her bathroom, brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face.  She threw on her black skinny jeans and the button up shirt she had been wearing to work lately, shoved her shoes on, grabbed her bag, and headed out the door.

When she looked at her phone again, it was 11:45.

_Nailed it._

It was only a 6 or 7 minute walk to the coffee shop, so she could take her time.  She let her thoughts wander and she was not surprised at where they took her.

_Lexa._

She had been out later than she intended the night before with the girl, and couldn’t regret it at all.  She allowed herself a few minutes to think about the kiss. 

There were no words.  There were flashes of heavy breathing, of warm hands, of the most delicious lips she had ever tasted.  They were burned into her.  She closed her eyes and she could almost feel herself there, once more, desperately writhing, trying to find friction against Lexa.  Wanting to devour the girl completely.

_Dammit Griffin._

But the anger wouldn’t come either.  Just a lingering ache.

She opened her eyes and pushed her mind to the next part of the evening.  It was equally as intoxicating, but so different from the kiss.  Sweet and soft and warm.  She had actually learned something about the girl who had been occupying her thoughts for weeks.  That her favorite food was Indian.  That her favorite season was spring.  That she was getting a degree in Exercise Science.  That she was afraid of heights. 

When Lexa had told her about Lincoln and Anya, about her parents, Clarke felt humbled.  The fact that Lexa trusted her with her story, with the pain and the perseverance, with something so fundamental to who Lexa was…it felt sacred to Clarke, illuminating something about the formation of Lexa's soul; the foundation of who she was; what she built herself upon.  She felt grateful to hear it.  Lucky to be in the presence of Lexa’s strength; to understand something that Lexa did not want most people to understand. 

As she reached the coffee shop, she felt ready for her five hour shift, letting a loop of pink lips and green eyes cycle through her head on repeat.

* * *

 

A few days later, Clarke opened the door to a restaurant she had never been to before, and smiled brightly as she saw Octavia give her a wave.  She looked so much like how Clarke remembered her, though she definitely didn’t look 16 anymore.  She had filled out a little and she had a little more wisdom in her eyes...

_I can still see that special brand of Octavia-crazy, though._

And she noticed that people responded to her obvious beauty even more than they did back then.  A man behind her tapped her on the shoulder with a hopeful look in his eyes.  Distracted from her wave, she turned to look at him, brow furrowing suddenly, and just said, “No.”  Before walking away.

“Clarke!”

As she made her way over, Clarke spoke to her in a low tone.

“Geez, Octavia.  Not trying to let him down gently, were you?”

Octavia huffed. “It’s like the third time it has happened in the last 15 minutes!  It’s a lot, even for me.  I think there is a group of them at the bar and they just keep sending them out, to the slaughter, one by one.”  Clarke _did_ see a group of guys at the bar, sending annoyed glances their way.

Clarke just laughed.  “You haven’t changed.”

“Nope!  Still hot, and wanted by many.  Perfect timing, by the way.  They just called our name.”

The girls followed the hostess to a table, chatted easily about the menu, and ordered their food.  As they waited, Octavia went right for the kill.

“So where have you been for the last 8 years Griffin?”  Her words were blunt but her eyes were curious…and a little hurt, though she hid it well.

Clarke grimaced slightly, but knew she shouldn’t be surprised.  This was Octavia.  She had never been one for tact.  She sat herself up straight and sorted out her words.

“I missed you, O.” And it was true.  She missed her blunt tone, and her no-nonsense attitude when something bothered her.  “I...well I was messed up.  Before I left, I mean.  And I wasn’t really fair to you.”

“No, you weren’t,” Octavia says with some bite, before she softens.  “But I get it.  I could barely get out of bed after…you know…your dad.  I can only imagine how awful it was for you.”  She looks down at the table.  “I just wish you would have talked to me.”  Clarke sees a few unshed tears in Octavia’s eyes.    

“O. Hey.”  She and leans over the table further, hands still in her lap, trying to get Octavia to look at her.  Finally, she finds her eyes.  “It _was_ rough for me, but I know it was for you, too.  You and Bell…you were like his kids, too.  He loved you guys.  And he would have been proud of you.  I was just being a stupid kid.  I’m sorry for that.  And I’m sorry I missed the last 8 years.”

Suddenly, Octavia smiles brightly.

_She always did go from zero to sixty in no time at all.  Some things never change._

“You’re forgiven, Griff.”  Clark smiles at the old nickname.  She knew it wasn’t completely okay, not yet.  She knew it would take time, and she decided to let Octavia dictate that timeline. 

“Now, tell me everything you know about Lincoln.”  Her tears are gone, and her elbows are on the table.

“So, I take it you two hit it off on Friday?”

“Clarke, he is so hot.  And he is really sweet.  And he used to play soccer.  You know how I get about hot guys who play soccer.”

“I do.  If I recall, that is how the Atom Henderson debacle of ’02 began.” 

“Oh my god, he was a dick.  He thought every guy was flirting with me all the time.”

“O. They were.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like I was going to do anything with any of them.”

“Yes, but then when he looked through your phone, you threw a rock through his windshield.  Don’t you think that was a tad excessive?”  Clarke laughs at Octavia’s unapologetic face.

“Hey, I warned him, and he still wouldn’t give it back.  All’s fair in love and war, Griff.”

Clarke throws her head back in laughter at the familiar phrase that Octavia had always thrown at any mistake.  “Right, I forgot.”

“So, Lincoln.  What do you know?”

“Well…he owns Grounder Fitness.  That’s how I met him.  And…”  Clarke tried to wrack her brain for any bits of information about Lincoln she had heard from Lexa.  “He is really close with Lexa and Anya.  They are like his sisters…and I think Lexa told me that he is pretty shy. And…” She doesn’t feel that she should tell Octavia about his parents.  It seems like something he would tell her if he wanted her to know, eventually. “That’s really all I know.  He’s a nice guy.”

“Hmm, that’s not very good recon, Griff.  I’m disappointed.”

“Hey, I wasn’t even aware I was on a reconnaissance mission until just now!”

“Fair enough.  I guess I’ll have to find out the rest on my own.”  She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“I can tell you’re broken up about that.”

“Crushed.  Speaking of his so-called family, what’s with you and Hotty McBitch Face?”

Clarke bristles at the name.  “She does not have a Bitch Face.  Her name is Lexa.  And she is…a friend.”  That’s what she had been telling people, but after Friday, she wasn’t sure about the title anymore.  They hadn’t really talked much since then, except for the occasional texting conversation, and their usual prolonged eye contact at the gym, which had not improved after the kiss.  She had the distinct impression that Lexa was trying to give her space.

She didn’t care for it.

“First of all, yes, she does have a bitch face.  The only time she smiled was when she was talking to you…or drooling over you.  She was actually kind of scary.  Her and the other one…Anya?  Terrifying.  Second of all, I saw you two together.  She was watching you with puppy dog eyes, and you were totally into it.”

“Shut up.”  Clarke cannot hold back her smile.

Octavia takes this as confirmation and runs with it.  “Plus, where the hell did you guys go after the bar?  It was only like 10:30.  OOO!  Did you hook up?  You totally had sex, didn’t you?”

Clarke feels her face grow hot, but she tries to keep her composure.  “No, O!  It’s not like that.  We just walked to the park.”  She considers for a moment. “I mean we kissed.  But it was no big deal.”

_Liar._

“I knew it!  How was it?  She _is_ super hot.  Like an intense, scary hot.  I bet it was good.”

“O! Seriously, she’s not scary…”  She can’t hold it in.  “And yes, it was kind of amazing.”

“I knew it!  And I’m not going to budge on the scary thing.  But you are kind of scary, too, so it works.”

“What?  How am I scary?”

“Maybe not scary, as much as, intimidating.”

“I am not!  That is ridiculous.”

“You definitely are.  You are gorgeous and don’t know it, and you can destroy people with your words.  I remember most of the boys at Ark that tried something with you being scared off because you made them feel stupid.”

“Most of the boys at Ark were stupid, O.”

“Touché.”

“And what about Wells?  I didn’t scare him off.  I dated him for a bit.”  _Kind of…_

“You kissed him twice, let him take you to homecoming, and he followed you around like a puppy for the rest of the year.  Plus, he was like some sort of genius.  I think he is a chemical engineer or something now.  He was up to your intelligence standards and he was hot.  But I still think he was a little afraid of you.”

“You’re one to talk!  You broke guys’ hearts, left and right!  From what I saw earlier, you are still doing it.”

“Hey, I don’t deny it.  I can’t help that my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.”  Clarke spits out her water at this.  “But I was straight up with all of them, and I never cheated.  They just couldn’t tame this wild heart.”  She dramatically places her hand over her chest, and looks to the sky.

Clarke still has water dripping from her face, as she struggles to keep her laughter under control.

They continued like this for a few hours. Clarke can’t help but feel at home as they slip into their old patterns, discussing their new lives, their old lives, boys, girls, jobs, everything…laughing most of the way through.  She feels like they picked up where they left off, and it’s nice.   Clarke knows there is so much more to tell her and so much more she needs to hear, but it feels like, now, she has time; time she wasted before. 

When the night ends, and they say goodbye, they make a plan to meet up weekly, and Clarke walks home, feeling more content than she has in a long time.


	9. All the things she said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke thinks about Lexa. There is some Star Trek talk, and a rant about television. Raven arrives.

Clarke climbs into her car preparing for the 45 minute drive to the airport to pick up Raven.  She picks up her phone to check her playlist and wiggles a little into her seat in excitement.  Not only does she get to see Raven in less than an hour, but she also gets to enjoy a longer drive than she has in months. 

Clarke has always enjoyed driving long distances more than most.  She used to constantly take aimless drives around the city, occasionally driving to another town for a random museum exhibit or live show.  It was her ‘me time’.  It was her peace.  Something about the landscape rolling past, the calm rumble of the road, gave her a tranquility that it was difficult to find anywhere else.  She always felt free while driving, in a way that she only feels behind the wheel of a car, playing her music loudly, singing along, letting her thoughts wander.  The road seemed to inspire her; to allow easier access to a different perspective. 

As she rolls the car out of the parking lot, she is already nodding her head, singing along loudly.

About 10 minutes in, she turns the music down slightly and starts to sort through some of the more pressing thoughts that have been on her mind lately. 

_A.K.A Lexa._

She has had several encounters with the girl since the playground incident a week ago, but most of them involved quick ‘hello’s when Lexa was working (usually with some prolonged eye contact) or one sentence texts about random things that they seem to keep sending each other, every time one girl sees or hears something that reminds them of the other. 

Clarke knows Lexa is busy and has a lot on her plate.  She didn’t actually realize how busy she was until Lexa informed Clarke about her schedule that night on the swings. 

She’s taking four classes, works full time at the gym, and works out at least 5 days a week.  She also managed to go to the Drop Ship at least once a week with Lincoln and Anya.

Lexa had called it ‘Family Time.’

_Freaking adorable._

Clarke is torn about Lexa’s constant tendency to be working, studying, or otherwise engaged. 

On one hand, she wishes that she had been able to hang out with Lexa more over the past week.

_Every day, would have been ideal…_

She wishes it could be like it was in high school or college, when the people you are into are around all the time and your responsibilities are usually flexible or much less intense.  It was so easy to throw herself into another person back then.  She could study with them, grab meals with them on campus, hangout until early hours in the morning, because classes the next morning were skippable, or she could at least attend half-awake and still take decent notes.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy to do now.  Lexa was a responsible adult.  And Clarke’s own work schedule got in the way, as well.

But, on the other hand…

The fact that Lexa is so focused, driven, and serious about what she does…well, it’s kind of a turn on for Clarke.

_Actually, a huge fucking turn on._

She had seen Lexa a few times with her clients at the gym.  From what Clarke could tell, she was actually really good at what she did, and she seemed to enjoy it.  She pushed people and was very firm in her instructions, but she was also encouraging and most clients seemed to leave the sessions looking exhausted, but proud of themselves. 

And Lexa was always so precise in her movements in the gym.  She spoke with authority.  She didn’t really loiter around, except for the few times that Clarke had made her presence known.  She was always walking briskly and with purpose; always so put together and controlled, moving from one client to the next or heading out to class or home to study. 

Seeing that side of Lexa was so confusing for Clarke.  It always made her smile and want to stop Lexa; run her fingers over Lexa’s arm and make her relax at the touch.  But she knew Lexa was very adamant about maintaining her routine.  Even when she could tell that she didn’t want to.

_When I distract her…_

Clarke knew she should feel guilty…she just couldn’t.

However, Lexa flat out refused to grab a drink with Clarke the day before because she had a test in the morning, and Clarke could see the apology burning in Lexa’s eyes.  But Clarke was impressed at her drive, and how she never really complained and actually seemed happy to do carry out most of her responsibilities (except the front desk at the gym…Lexa was vocal about despising the front desk).  She was so passionate about her goals and Clarke almost envied that about her.  She knew what she wanted and she was willing to make sacrifices for it.  To do whatever it took.

So her time was limited, but it just made Clarke want her more.

_Didn’t even think it was possible._

There were really only three major interactions that Clarke had with Lexa in the last week and Clarke had been playing them each over in her mind continuously.

The first was a text message the day after their jungle gym make out session:

 

_Clarke steps outside the café, reveling in the fresh air, as she sits at a table, preparing to stare off into nothingness for her 15 minute break.  When she glances at her phone, she sees a message from Lexa.  Her smile is immediate.  She had been bummed because this afternoon was one of the only times Lexa had free (‘scheduled downtime’, was actually Lexa’s term) and, of course, Clarke was stuck at work._

**_Lexa – I tried to watch an episode of Star Trek.  I don’t know how you manage this shit._ **

_Clarke snorts before typing out her reply._

**_Clarke – Hey! It’s not that bad!_ **

**_Clarke – wait…are you watching the Original Series?_ **

**_Lexa – Yeah…and?  Isn’t that what I’m supposed to watch?_ **

**_Lexa – It’s pretty lame…_ **

**_Clarke – Well, I guess, chronologically you should watch it…_ **

**_Clarke– but there are certain things that are pretty dated.  It is from the 60’s…I wouldn’t suggest it for everyone.  And the effects are laughable._ **

**_Clarke - I recommend skipping to Next Generation._ **

_Clarke doesn’t get a response before she has to go back to work.  She stifles her disappointment and gets through her shift.  As she is walking out the door to leave for the day, she sees that Lexa had responded, about an hour after her last message._

**_Lexa – Okay.  I admit it._ **

**_Lexa – I get it now.  I can see the appeal._ **

**_Lexa– I like the Captain._ **

VICTORY!  Score one for the Trekkies!

**_Clarke – I knew it!!_ **

**_Clarke – Captain Picard is the best!_ **

**_Clarke - I would follow his bald head to the end of the universe and back!_ **

**_Lexa - *seriously considers shaving head*_ **

**_Clarke – hahaha_ **

**_Clarke - Don’t you dare_ **

 

Clarke wasn’t sure why, but the fact that Lexa, who had teased her several times for being a bit of a Trekkie, had actually attempted to watch Star Trek, had put a smile on her face every time she thought about it.  She had wanted to ask her a million questions about what she thought about it, what she liked, what she didn’t like, etc.  She wanted to ask her why she had decided watched it; if they could watch it together; if they could make out while watching it.

_Making out with Lexa while watching Science Fiction._

_That’s the dream._

It was strange to Clarke how something so simple and mundane had made her chest feel so full.

 

The second time they had interacted was face-to-face, at the gym, the day after she hung out with Octavia:

 

_Clarke sprints through the front doors and runs to the bathroom next to the doors.  She wasn’t sure why she thought she should ignore her urge to pee before leaving the apartment._

Lies.  You knew Lexa would be here working out before her shift.  You even mentioned you would try to come by!

Shush brain! Not now.

_When she emerges from the facilities, feeling lighter and relieved, she uses the side entrance to the equipment area that she hasn’t used before.  It has a small semi-enclosed space behind it that you have to go through before getting into the main gym.  She notices that there are giant inflated exercise balls here, and extra yoga mats.  She makes a note for the future._

_As she rounds the corner, she spots a familiar brunette across the room, exiting the employee locker room.  She is about to try to get her attention, but she notices her odd behavior._

_Lexa is looking towards the front door, clearly watching for something.  When she gets about 5 feet away from the locker room door, she pauses, turns around, and walks back in.  3 seconds later, the door opens again, slower this time, and she takes one step out, holding the door open with her left foot, still looking towards the front doors.  This time she actually stands on her toes for a second, craning her neck to see further, likely into the parking lot._

_Clarke watches it and realizes that she is waiting for someone._

Is she waiting for me?

_Her grin is ear to ear._

_She watches as Lexa turns back around and comes through the door twice more, before she decides to intervene._

_She is beaming as she slowly walks towards her, trying not to be seen just until the last possible second. When she speaks, Lexa’s eyes go wide and she actually jumps at the sound._

_“Hey.”_

_“Oh!  Clarke!  Hey.”  After the shock wears off, she manages a smile through her crimson cheeks.  “How long…I mean, when did you get here?”_

_Despite not wanting to embarrass Lexa too much, she cannot seem to reduce the width of her smile.  Her cheeks are actually getting a little sore from the force of it._

“ _Just came in a few minutes ago, actually.  You okay?  It looked like you were waiting for someone.  A client perhaps?”  Clarke smirks and she can tell that Lexa knows she saw her.  The way she bashfully looks down at the ground and turns impossibly redder than she already was makes Clarke’s heart pound and warmth to spread through her stomach._

_“I just, um…” she huffs.  “Iwaswaitingforyou.”_

_Clarke hears it, but steps closer until she is within arm’s length, and asks for clarification._

_“What was that?”_

_Lexa rolls her eyes and arches her neck up, looking at the ceiling as she huffs out another breath through an embarrassed grin.  It is very reminiscent of something a child would do.  So much the opposite of how Lexa normally is at the gym.  Clarke can’t help but grin wider._

_“I was waiting for you, okay?  Are you happy?”  Lexa puts her best grumpy face on, but she can see the smile trying to break the surface._

_“Very.”_

_Clarke wants to kiss her so badly, it’s almost painful.  She can tell Lexa is thinking the same thoughts. They are just standing there, rocking sideways, back and forth, staring at each other like teenagers.  Lexa’s entire face and neck are still red, and Clarke has such a desire to find out if her skin is as warm to the touch as it looks.  She longs to press her fingers to Lexa’s collarbone and slowly run them down to the opening of her V-neck shirt._

_She wants to so badly._

_But she doesn’t._

_She doesn’t think they are there, yet.  She doesn’t really know where they are.  Lexa seems to sense the same thing and she hears the brunette clear her throat, with a smile, and send a look to Clarke that is half warning, half apology._

_Clarke decides to break the tension further, and speak._

_“I know you have to work soon, but would you want to walk around the track with me a few times before you go?”_

_Lexa nods, seeming grateful for the idea, and they head up the stairs to the track._

_As they walk, conversation seems to happen naturally._

_“So, what did you think of Star Trek?”_

_She watches as Lexa chuckles before responding.  “I only watched a few episodes…but I actually really enjoyed it”_

_“Don’t sound so surprised!  I told you it was good!”_

_Lexa laughs, “Yeah, yeah…but you are a self-proclaimed sci-fi nerd.  I wasn’t sure what I would be in for.  But…it was actually fun and, I don’t know, I kind of love the idea of doing that…”  Lexa looks ahead, somewhat wistfully, and Clarke is only half surprised that she finds Lexa liking Star Trek super-hot._

_“Doing what? Like, being in Star Fleet? Exploring the galaxy?  Hell yes! That would be my dream!”_

_Lexa just laughs as Clarke continues.  “I really wanted to when I was little, after watching it.  I begged my parents to let me, and I wouldn’t listen when they told me it wasn’t real.  Eventually, I conceded that it wasn’t real_ yet _, but it would be one day, and I was going to go.  Go explore the galaxy.  See places no one has ever seen!  It all sounded…still sounds pretty fantastic.”_

_“Yeah, it really does.  I was kind of surprised at how much I enjoyed watching it.”_

_“Why?  Because its science fiction?”_

_“Maybe…and I just don’t really watch that much TV.  I just never saw the point.”_

_Clarke remembers Lexa mentioning this before, but she can’t help come to the defense of television.  She has always felt that it was special, even when it felt silly to think so._

_“But television is great.  It’s kind of magic.”_

_Lexa just looks at Clarke with a disbelieving quirked eyebrows._

_“No, I mean it!”  She’s getting excited, and she doesn’t try to reign it in.  “TV is our generation’s outlet for that human need for… stories!”_

_Lexa still looks puzzled, but Clarke can tell she’s at least listening now._

_“Like, think about it.  Cavemen drew pictures on walls to tell stories of what happened to them; what was important to them.  In ancient India, Greece, Rome, Egypt…wherever….before TV or radio or movies or even plays, there were myths, legends, gods…all of that stuff.  They were these characters that lived out stories and fables to teach people lessons.  To remind them of what was important.  Sometimes, they were even characters that people truly believed existed.  Later, there were plays that people went to see.  So they could watch human drama or comedy play out in front of them.  They could feel it, without having to live it; escape from the harshness of…you know, plagues, or slavery or poverty or serfdom… whatever other awful shit was going on at the time.”_

_Lexa giggles a little but seems to be genuinely interested now, and it fuels Clarke to continue._

_“People could experience emotions and think thoughts they might not have otherwise; they could question things.  And all through storytelling.  Shakespeare was great at it, obviously.  That kind of stuff was mostly for the masses, until it wasn’t.  And then books, like Dickens, which were also for the masses…Until they weren’t.  And, of course, movies came later.  Before they became huge Hollywood productions, movies were seen as this silly novelty; light tricks and lowbrow entertainment for lowbrow people.  Until they weren’t.  And television is the same thing, except its continuous, and you can get caught up with these characters and the stories, every week, or daily, or in a heavy Netflix binge session.”_

_Clarke is lost in her excitement now, waving her hands dramatically._

_“And you hope their hopes with them, and you cry when they experience despair.  And you see their adventures and their courage and their mistakes and you can think, “what if that happened to me?” or “how would I deal with that?”  And everyone experiences it differently, and gets hooked on different aspects of it.  And people find hope in it, and people can get lost in it, or find what they need in it.  See possibilities.  And some of those people go write more television, or create new characters, or new kinds of art.  Stories just inspire more and more stories, so more ideas can be shared and lessons can be taught over and over, in different way.  Just like they did 1000 years ago.  Except we’re in it right now, so people still sometimes look down on it; they can’t see it clearly for what it is…an art form.  But, I think it’s kind of magic.  It’s kind of…beautiful, really.”_

_Clarke takes a big breath and exhales, realizing that she has been talking for a while.  She is a little embarrassed at her rant, but when she turns to look at Lexa, she is just staring at her with this soft, wide-eyed expression on her face that Clarke can’t quite read.  They are still walking, though much slower now.  She sees Lexa shake her head, and glance at her watch (fitbit?  Exercise band…Clarke doesn’t really know what it is she is wearing), before slowing her steps and stopping._

_“I have to go to work.”  She looks sad about it._

_Suddenly, she stops, grabs Clarke’s wrist gently, and pulls her forward slightly.  Lexa’s other hand comes up and brushes along Clarke’s jaw until it rests on the back of her neck, and Clarke feels herself being pulled into a kiss._

_She is surprised by it and lets out a short gasp.  It is gentle, but firm; the warmth of Lexa’s mouth is covering Clarke’s.  Clarke’s whole body melts into the contact.  It is chaste but, somehow, full of a very Lexa-like passion; felt so fully, but controlled; exact.  She feels Lexa's tongue briefly graze her lip, before it disappears again; as if Lexa were trying to tell her something important, and asking for nothing in return. She doesn't know what it is she is trying to say with the kiss._

_But she sure as hell doesn’t mind trying to figure it out._

_Lexa pulls back slowly, her hand still on the back of Clarke’s neck. Their lips glide together infinitesimally before parting completely and the look on her face tells Clarke that Lexa was a little surprised by the whole thing, just as Clarke was._

_Suddenly, Lexa’s face breaks into a shy grin, and she removes her hand and steps back._

_“Sorry…I, uh…just needed to do that.”_

_“It’s…totally okay.”  She cannot form any other words, her brain still trying to catch up._

_“I’ll talk to you later, Clarke.”  And with that, Lexa turns and walks away, down the stairs, and out of Clarke’s line of sight._

_Clarkes lips are tingling as she watches her go._

Clarke sees the sign along the road telling her that she is 15 miles from the airport. 

She still feels heat in her chest when she thinks about that kiss.  It was different than their first kiss.  Obviously, there was less panting and writhing, but there was also…something else.  Clarke couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  She still can’t.  She’s been trying for days.  It was so deliberate.  So telling.

She just wished she could figure out what it was telling her.

 

The third interaction that she had with Lexa was just that morning, after hanging up the phone with Raven as she boarded her flight.

****

**_Clarke – What are you doing tomorrow evening?_ **

**_Lexa – I was probably just going to go to the Drop Ship as usual, but I could change my plans.  Why?_ **

**_Clarke – Well, Raven will be in town and I was hoping we could all hang out?_ **

**_Clarke – She wants to meet you._ **

_Clarke immediately regrets sending that.  It implies something serious.  Some sort of commitment._

**_Lexa – You told her about me?_ **

Shit.

**_Clarke – I think I mentioned you in passing…_ **

**_Clarke – You know, my gym buddy._ **

**_Clarke – Playground friend._ **

**_Clarke – Fellow Trekkie._ **

_She wants, desperately, to be able to see Lexa.  To tell if she has freaked her out.  Lexa’s response calms her._

**_Lexa – Whoa, whoa.  Trekkie may be going a bit far Clarke.  Star Trek and I are taking things slow, seeing where it goes._ **

**_Clarke – I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to assume anything about your relationship._ **

**_Clarke – you and Star Trek take all the time you need._ **

**_Lexa – I forgive you._ **

**_Lexa – Well, did you want to do something tomorrow?  Like I said, I’m willing to move some stuff around._ **

**_Clarke – Actually, the Drop Ship sounds perfect.  Raven will like it there.  And we will have been looking at apartments all day, so it will be nice to just have a low key hang out some place comfortable._ **

**_Clarke – I can call Octavia, too.  See if she is working._ **

**_Clarke – I’m sure she’ll be willing to come if Lincoln is there_ **

**_Clarke – and…sorry in advance._ **

**_Lexa - ?_ **

**_Clarke – For anything Raven may say or do._ **

**_Clarke – You’ll see._ **

**_Lexa – haha okay Clarke_ **

**_Lexa – Drive safely_** **_:)_**

Clarke was nervous about the plans they had made for tomorrow.  She knew Raven wouldn’t do anything too crazy (hopefully).  But she did like to stir shit up.  And Clarke and Lexa had a very precarious situation.  They were taking things slow, and easing into…whatever this was.  It was just the kind of thing Raven loved to poke at.  Tinker with, like an engine.  Seeing how all the parts worked and making a judgement about how salvageable it was. 

And setting fire to it, if it wasn't.

Clarke also seemed to get just a little crazier around Raven.  She let Raven talk her into things that were just a little more than what she would be willing to do on her own. 

_We’ll probably end up somewhere dancing._

She would have to be sure to keep herself in check.  She didn’t want to mess things up with Lexa.

Plus Raven had never met Octavia.  Clarke and Octavia had just started hanging out again, and Clarke hoped…she didn’t know.  It all felt like a lot.

Clarke felt like she had lived in all of these different worlds, at different points in her life.  And she was a slightly different person in each of them.  Each version was still Clarke, but they were all adjusted slightly depending on who she was with.  Octavia got the young, slightly more innocent, silly Clarke.  The sometimes protective, always teasing, big sister/best friend version of her.  Raven got the wilder version; the moody, well-known fuck up who Raven still, somehow, loved and accepted. The one who would go out, get crazy, and blow off steam.  Who was down for whatever. And Lexa…

Lexa got something else.  Some sort of combination of all of it.  A part of Clarke that felt open and free.  Strong and sure. But tentative and cautious.  That felt the most real.

The worlds would be crashing together soon, and Clarke hoped she was ready.

 

* * *

 

Clarke sees her standing next to the curb long before her car reaches her.  Raven sticks out in the crowd, standing tall, ripped jeans, t-shirt, hair in a ponytail, aviators; she looked like she owned the sidewalk.  She looked just like the bad-ass, genius, party girl Clarke remembered, except not covered in motor oil and with no visible singe marks in her clothes. But Clarke knew that now, instead, she was a young, brilliant, professional engineer at a prestigious company. 

 _Maybe she managed to be both._   The thought gave Clarke hope, for some reason.

She stared in the direction that Clarke was coming from and she could see the second that Raven spotted her.  A smirk appeared on her face.  Otherwise, her stance was unchanged.

Clarke pulled up next to her and just smiled back.  She rolled down the passenger window and called out to her.

“Hey bitch.”

Raven stays standing, looking straight ahead.

“Clarke Griffin, if you don’t get your ass out of that car and come give me a hug, I will throw my suitcase through your window.”

Clarke laughs, as she unbuckles her seatbelt, exits the car, and walks around to wrap Raven in a giant embrace.

Raven finally speaks as they continue to hug.  “Hey bitch.”

“God!  I am so glad you’re here!”  Clarke pulls back and grips Ravens shoulders, getting a good look at her.

“I know, I know.  I get that a lot.”

Clarke just shakes her head, smiling.  She glances at Raven’s leg and notices something different.

“Dang.  Is that a new brace?  It’s sleek as fuck!”

Raven lets a genuine smile take over her face.

“You bet your ass!  I chucked the old one once I started making some more money.  It was the worst.  This is the good shit.  They even let me make some adjustments.  My genius has only improved it.”

Raven had a serious knee injury for as long as Clarke had known her, from a motorcycle accident when she was younger.  Clarke was never sure exactly what was wrong with it, but she could barely walk without a brace.  Raven called it a “reminder of her wayward youth,” but never really complained or let it hold her back.  She had worked for 3 months almost continuously during sophomore year, barely sleeping, to pay for her last brace and hated the thing.  It was monstrous and clicked when she walked, alerting anyone that she near.  This new one was clear plastic, fit snugly, and Clarke was surprised it was actually doing anything, for how inconspicuous it was.  But she saw Raven gracefully walk to the trunk and throw her suitcase in, hearing no clicking and seeing no struggle from the girl.

She smiled.  “I dig it, Ray.”

“Thanks, Princess.”

Clarke pulls the car away from the curb after they are situated inside, and they begin chatting about Raven’s flight and their plans for apartment hunting, interrupted by a periodic exclamation of excitement from Clarke, which earns an eye roll and a grin from Raven each time. 

“So, are you going to leave any broken hearts back in the city when you move?”

“Oh, you know.  Not too many, but possibly a few.”  She says it with humor, but Clarke can tell there is some truth.

“Spill.”

“It’s not a big deal Clarke.  Just someone getting a little too attached, as usual.”

Clarke rolls her eyes.  That _was_ usual with Raven.  She would hook up with someone, occasionally more than once, and eventually, they would want more than she was willing to give.  She was always the one to end it.  Clarke wasn’t terribly surprised that it was still happening like that.

“So, what’s the story with this one?”

She shrugs, looking out the window.  “Just a friend from work.  Wick.  Hot, frustrating…my usual type.”  She smirks, “He is actually a great fuck.  We were pretty constantly going at it for a little while there.”  She sighs.  “But he wanted more and…I just wasn’t feeling it.  After we got all the sex out, I wasn’t interested any more.  Just better as friends, I guess.  He didn’t really see it that way.  Wasn’t too keen on staying chummy.”  Raven looks a little more sad than usual as she stares out the window for a beat.

“Well, he’s an idiot if he’s willing to give up the Raven Reyes friendship experience.”

“Right?”  Raven smiles again.  “I should just stop sleeping with friends.”

Clarke snorts.  “Not a terrible idea.”

“Though, you know I would always be up for it with you, Princess.”  She winks and wiggles her eyebrows at the joke.

Clarke laughs out loud.  “Oh please!”

“You know you want it.  I am excellent in bed.”

“So I hear, Reyes.  But we both know we would never make it that far, if history is anything to go by.” 

Raven laughs at this and nods her head, knowingly.  “Too true, Griffin.  Too true.”

Clarke and Raven had a pretty extensive history of making out when drunk, particularly the year after Clarke broke up with Finn.  It was always when they were wasted, it was usually after they had been dancing at some club, getting lost in booze and thumping bass, all over each other.  It always ended in a fit of giggles and passing out.  They never let their hands roam or felt any residual tension.  At one point, it became a strangely normal occurrence that neither girl was bothered by.   They were close enough that it was never weird between them, and Clarke knew it was a desire for physical comfort that always led to it, and nothing more.  Clarke had never seen Raven in any way other than her best friend and she knew Raven felt the same.  Plus, it was handy in any situation in which one of them was getting unwanted attention when they were out and about.

“Griffin, your car is more rumbly than it should be.”

“My car is fine.  And ‘rumblyr’?  Is that a technical engineering term?”

Raven barely acknowledges Clarke.  “I’m going to check it out tomorrow.”

“Raven, its fine.”

“It’s happening Clarke.  Get over it.”

Clarke just huffs, but lets a small smile break.  She missed Raven.


	10. Drama, drama, drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is some angst, Raven flirts with, like, everyone. And then: dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shirked other responsibilities to write this, and I have no regrets.

As Clarke pulls into the parking lot of her building and goes to turn the car off, she is distracted by the unsettling stillness of Raven.  She can feel her stare and the girl has not made any attempt to remove herself from the car.

“Griffin.  Is this your apartment?”

“Yes?”

_Shit, what did I do?_

Raven tilts her head and shoots Clarke a stern look. “I know it’s been a while, but you haven't forgotten tradition, have you?”

She smiles, somewhat ashamed, but mostly relieved.  “Shit.  Of course.  That’s my bad.”  She starts the car up again.

“I’m disappointed.”

Clarke rolls her eyes.  “You’ll get your drink.  Calm down.  But we aren’t staying out late.”  Clarke was firm.  “I am not going to be hungover while hunting for apartments tomorrow.  One drink.  Then home.”

It had been a tradition since sophomore year.  Anytime they traveled anywhere, whether it was one town over, or much further, like the time they ended up in Canada for a week, they always stopped at a bar, somewhere in the new city they were in, before going to where they would be staying (hotel, hostel, random couch, etc.).  They always toasted to their travels; to the adventures they might have; to their fortune of getting to be there together.  (They never discussed as much, but both of them knew.  It was sacred.).  Even when they returned home, they would do the same thing before they went back to their dorms or apartments, usually swapping sleepy stories, over a single weak drink, about wherever they just came from, before getting home and passing out.

_Tradition._

She knew they would be there again tomorrow, but there was only one place she knew that was close.

 “There is a place nearby.”

***

They walked into the Drop Ship and Raven immediately glanced around appraisingly, following Clarke to the bar.  They grabbed two stools and settle in.  It was empty accept for two guys at a back booth, in deep discussion.  They didn't even see a bartender. 

Raven nodded, having finished her assessment of the place.  “It’s acceptable.”

“Oh, I’m so glad, your highness. I didn’t realize you were so picky.  I’ve seen you take shots with a random guy in a port-a-potty.”

“Hey!”  She pauses, clearly trying to think of a reasonable retort.  “I was young.  And music festivals blur the lines of what is acceptable.”

Clarke just laughs.

“Griff!  What the hell?  I didn’t know you would be here.”  Octavia pops up from behind the bar, like a jack-in-the-box, out of nowhere, making both Clarke and Raven jump.  It seems to amuse her.

“Jesus, O!  What were you doing down there?”

She shrugs, still laughing at the reaction she got.  “Hiding out.  Playing a game on my phone.  It’s a slow night and Bellamy peaced out again, for some girl.  If I didn’t think he needed to get laid so badly, I would have refused to come in.”

“Well, _I_ am certainly glad you graced us with your presence.  Hi, I’m Raven.”  Raven gets a familiar glint in her eye, as she trails her gaze over Octavia’s face.  Clarke grips her arm immediately, and speaks in a low voice.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Octavia, completely oblivious, sticks her hand out to Raven.  “Hey!  I’m Octavia!”

Raven is surprised.  “THE Octavia?  Really?”  She looks at Clarke and then back at Octavia. 

Clarke just nods her head, smiling.

“Well, shit!  You never mentioned how gorgeous your friend was.  It’s nice to finally meet you Octavia.”  She shakes her hand vigorously, and Octavia looks surprised, but her smile doesn’t falter.

“Octavia, this is my friend Raven, from Jaha.  The one I told you about.”  She not-so-discretely takes her pointer finger and swirls it around next to her temple.  Raven just shakes her head and slaps Clarke’s arm.

“Oh! Raven!  Hey, it’s nice to meet you too!  I’m so glad you guys are here.  I’m bored out of my skull.  You can entertain me!”

Raven is still looking mischievously at Octavia.  “How about you grab us two whiskey gingers, and join us for a drink? On me.”

“Coming right up!”  Octavia walks further behind the bar to mix the drinks.

“Raven, seriously, you have no shot with Octavia.  She is extremely straight.”

“They all are, until they aren’t.”  But Raven does seem to develop a slightly resigned and disappointed look.  “Plus, a little flirting never hurt anyone.”

“Whatever.”  Clarke just chuckles, actually amused to see how it all plays out.

Octavia brings the drinks back, setting up a shot for herself.  “Cheers!”  Raven and Clarke say it simultaneously, and they all clink their glasses together.  Clarke loves how routine it feels; how natural.

“So, Octavia.  Clarke tells me you are exclusively into dudes?  How much truth is there in that statement?”

“What the fuck, Raven?”  Clarke sputters at the sudden comment.

Octavia just laughs.  “It is a fairly solid statement. Though,” Octavia’s appraising look at Raven surprises Clarke, “I have had my fair share of fun with the occasional gentlewoman.”  She shrugs. 

“Oh really?”  Raven turns a pointed look to Clarke, as if to say, _I told you so._

Clarke is surprised.  “Since when?!”

“Oh, please Clarke.  You have been AWOL for a long time.  A lot of things can happen in 8 years.  And look at me…I am not going to limit this kind of potential.”

“Amen!”  Raven is beaming.

“And you would be just my type…”she looks at Raven, smirking.  She giggles and looks away, “but, I actually think I might be…a little bit taken.”  Octavia actually blushes.

Clarke is, again, shocked.  More at this tidbit of information, than the last.

“What?!”  Clarke is at a loss.  _Too much information in so little time!_   “You…you can’t mean Lincoln?”

“Well, I don’t know…I saw him last night, and…he is just…really nice.  And…comfortable.  It feels right.”  Octavia shrugs, still blushing furiously.

Clarke was baffled and couldn’t help the gagging noise she made, earning her a glare from Octavia.  “You met him like a week ago, O.  Isn’t that…I don’t know…a little soon to be, like, exclusive.  You live for the lack of exclusivity!”

“I didn’t say it was official or anything, it’s just…I guess I’m just not really looking for anything else.  I kind of want to see where it goes.  I cant go messing that up, even for an admittedly beautiful woman.”  She sends a wink to Raven.

Clarke didn’t know what to say.  For some reason, it all seemed very odd.  So unlike the Octavia she was used to.  And it made Clarke panic a little bit.

_Calm down, she’s not you._

_And he’s not Lexa._

Clarke was surprised at the thought.  She actually hadn’t really been concerned at the thought of moving forward with Lexa all week, but seeing Octavia seem so serious about Lincoln so quickly brought up some of her own panic that she had been ignoring.

Raven speaks up, almost reading Clarke’s thoughts, “Hey!  Not that I am not disappointed at my own terrible luck at this information,” see gives a ridiculous, solemn bow to Octavia, who returns it without a beat, “but aren’t you the one who was going on and on about this Lexa girl, who you met like 3 weeks ago?  Seems a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Clarke groans we she sees Octavia break out in a grin.  She tries to cut off what she knows is coming.

“I did not go on and…”

“I knew it Griff!  I knew it!  You are such a bad liar!”  Raven is enjoying Octavia’s excitement way more than Clarke is comfortable with.

_I knew I should have never let them meet._

“Lexa and I are just friends.”  She hears both of the girls scoff.  She backtracks.  “Mostly.  But she is free to see other people,” Clarke’s stomach clenches at the thought “and…and so am I, if I so choose.  We are casual.  Taking it slow…letting the chips fall where they may.”

_Might have been one too many clichéd phrases…_

“Oh, really?”  Raven just shoots a disbelieving look in Clarke’s direction and shifts her gaze to Octavia.  “Are you buying any of this bullshit?”

“Oh, not for one fucking second.  You should have seen them the other night.  Lexa looked hella thirsty, if you know what I mean.  Clarke wasn’t much better.”  Octavia winks at Raven.

“No one knows what you mean, O.  That is a ridiculous phrase.  What does that even mean?”

Octavia looks offended.  “Hella? Or thirsty?  Because that is a legitimate way to describe both of you.  It was kind of disgusting.”

“It is not ridiculous, Octavia!  Clarkey, here is just being a Bitter Betty because we found her out.”  Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s defense.  _Of course._   “I’m picking up what you’re putting down, though.”  She shifts her glance to Clarke.  “Thou doth protesteth too much, Princess.”

Clarke lets out an indignant huff.  “Whatever, I need to pee.  Please stop discussing this when I leave.”  She knows they won’t, but hopes that without Clarke there to react, some of the desire to continue will dissipate.

She doesn’t actually have to go to the restroom, but she does need to gather herself.  And escape the teasing for a moment. She hadn’t even realized how attached she had grown to the idea of really dating Lexa until Octavia mentioned her own relationship with Lincoln.  It was a much stronger reaction than she expected.

_It’s so fast._

_Way too fast._

_I thought you didn’t care about that?_

Clarke hadn’t really…when she was in those little, magnificent, intoxicating moments.  When Lexa made her smile.  When she saw her do something adorable.  Or when Lexa was being so serious and focused, that Clarke wanted to rip her clothes of and reduce her stress in any way possible.  _Hmmm…so many possibilities._

Or when Lexa kissed her. 

She had let her fears sink somewhere underneath her excitement, letting all the butterflies and nervousness hide them.  She was saving them for a rainy day. 

And, all of a sudden, it was pouring.

_But that fear keeps you safe. And Lexa safe.  It’s there for a reason. This whole thing is dangerous._

She had made it to the bathroom and was just standing at the sink, looking in the mirror.  She gripped the sink as she stared into her own eyes, focusing on the chill of the porcelain on her hands. She let her thoughts wander to what Lexa might see when she looked in Clarke’s eyes.  What had Clarke given away with her looks?  With her glances?  Clarke thought they looked worried and vulnerable, at the moment.  Too vulnerable.

She furrowed her brow in an attempt to become more menacing.  Less readable.

It didn’t work.

_You just look confused._

She tried smoothing out all expression from her face. 

That worked a little better.

_Yes, like you don’t care that much._

_Because you don’t._

_But…_

_Why are you so concerned?  Lexa is not going to hurt you.  Lexa is kind.  And thoughtful.  And sweet. And she is willing to go slow._

_But you might hurt Lexa if you keep this up._

She didn’t want that.  But she wasn’t sure if she was scared of hurting Lexa by being more standoffish or by showing more interest.

_Lexa has shit she needs to focus on, too.  Pulling back a little would be easy._

She shook her head.

_God, you’re dramatic!  Get your head out of your ass and go hang out with your friends!_

_Right!_

Clarke smiled, taking a deep breath.  As she slowly let out her exhale, she shook her head at how ridiculous she was being.  She could do this later.  She had Raven and Octavia back. And they were right out there at the bar.  Waiting to hang out with her.

They were her family, and they were here.

She could figure the Lexa stuff out when the time came.

As she walked back to the bar, a little more relaxed, she saw Octavia’s head thrown back in raucous laughter and Raven standing at the bar, in her element, waving around a small straw and a salt shaker, making gestures that Clarke assumed were meant to be very lewd.

Clarke just chuckled, as she joined them once again.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa walks out of the Exercise Science building feeling very good about the test she just took.  She only smiles for a quick moment, before her expression becomes stiff again.

Despite feeling accomplished, she cannot shake the knots in her stomach that have been present, at varying degrees, since she had seen Clarke a few days before.

_Since you kissed her._

_So dumb.  So very dumb._

But she couldn’t control it.  Her body had taken over.  She had just watched, in awe, as Clarke rambled on about stories and television and, somehow, connected something that Lexa saw as so trivial to this giant tapestry of human history and development, and it was so very…frustrating.

Because she had always been adamant about thinking television was pointless.  She had, on more than one occasion, teased friends when they discussed their favorite shows.  She listened with judgement when she heard her classmates go on and on about some episode of some show that was on the night before, just thinking, _that is why you got a B_.  She was a bitch about it and she was comfortable with that.

But then Clarke changed her mind.  Just like that.  By talking for 5 minutes.  And it was frustrating as hell that she could do that.   The power she held over Lexa was terrifying.  The way she spoke; that gleam in her eye that she got when she was passionate about something and was uncontrollably, beautifully ranting; it was hard for Lexa to look directly at her, but she couldn’t look away either.

Lexa just had to kiss her.  She didn’t think about it.  She just did it.

And when Clarke texted her this morning, asking her what she was doing tomorrow…she didn’t even consider it when she offered to throw all her plans out the window. For her.  To spend time with her.

_It has gone too far.  This is too much._

But it’s proven to be difficult to stop. 

She felt certifiably insane and how much she had gone back and forth.

_And you ACTUALLY said the phrase, “I want to do this right.”  What the fuck were you thinking?_

Lexa automatically said it at the time, because it felt right.  And it was true.  She did want to do it right.  Clarke deserved that.  But she wasn’t sure what ‘right’ meant.

Now she felt like she had committed herself to something she wasn’t ready to follow through with. 

She tried to ignore the ache in her stomach.

She wasn’t sure anymore if being with Clarke would be right for either of them.  What if she couldn’t be enough for Clarke?  Clarke was so smart, and brilliant, and looked at the world like no one else Lexa had ever met. Lexa was...well...

She was what she was. 

She was serious, and structured and she had to stay focused.

She knew that she had to step back.  But she also knew she could not fully trust herself with Clarke. 

So she tried to bargain with herself.  She was going to put her foot down and draw a line in the sand.  A friendship line.  _Enough with all this wishy-washy emotion._ She wasn’t sure she could stop being friends with Clarke.  She seemed to be everywhere now; at the gym; at the Drop Ship; in Lexa’s thoughts. 

But she could give herself some options and follow through with a plan.  She was good at that.

_You have things that you need to focus on.  To accomplish.  You know that is the most important thing right now.  You have indulged yourself a little too much, but you can pull back on the reins._

_So here’s the deal:  You get through this semester, your very last semester, and then, if this whole Clarke thing is still there and accessible…then you can see…maybe look into doing something about it.  If not…then let it go.  False hope is not going to help either of you.  You cannot be enough for her right now.  It’s not fair._

_Until that time comes, you are FRIENDS.  Just friends.  And you will act accordingly.  Even if it’s difficult._

_Even if it’s the very last thing you want to do._

_When you see her tomorrow night, you will be friendly, you will talk with her friend Raven, you will spend as much time with Clarke as you do Anya, and Lincoln, and anyone else who is there._

_You will, under no circumstances, kiss her._

_Or stare at her._

_Maybe avoid any touching at all._

_You can do this._

_You can be strong._

Lexa wasn’t so sure.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke and Raven sit on Clarke’s couch, looking down at three separate pieces of paper, all of which contained details about different apartment complexes.  They had been discussing the merits of square footage, rent prices, and pet deposits for the past hour.  Clarke had been exhausted after their day, going from one building to the next, letting Raven do most of the talking, speaking up to make sure she asked all the right questions.  But now that they were home, looking things over, she was getting her second wind and mentally preparing herself for the evening out, while her bickering with Raven had dissolved into the usual silliness.

“We don’t have any pets Raven.  So, logically, we don’t need a place that allows pets.  It shouldn't factor into our decision.”

“But what if we wanted one?  It don’t like my options to be limited if I decide to finally get my goat.”

“We are not getting a goat!”

“Have you seen baby goats, Clarke?  You would not be so quick to turn them down if you had!  They hop around and you can put them in pajamas!  Its adorable.”

“They are only baby goats for a little while, and then they are full grown goats, who will shit everywhere and eat all of our things!”

“Okay, we’ll put a pin in the goat thing.”

“No goats.”

“Right.  A discussion for a different time.”

“Ugh.”  Clarke looks at the clock.  “We should get ready to go.  I told Lexa we would be there at 9 and I still need to shower.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep your lady waiting.” 

“She is not my lady.  And seriously, don’t do anything embarrassing tonight.  If you freak her out, she won’t even want to be my friend anymore, and now that you and Octavia are so chummy, I’m definitely going to need as many friends as I can get to escape the two of you.”

Raven and Octavia got along better than Clarke could have hoped…almost too well.  They had already ganged up on Clarke several times in their brief time together, and Raven even offered Octavia a space in their apartment, if she so desired.

“Hey, she is a cool chick.  And don’t you want us to get along?  We are your friends, after all.  Maybe even your new roommates, if Octavia stops denying that she wants to move in with us.  Think of how great it would be!”

Clarke was actually warming to the idea.  It was surprisingly easy to be around the both of them.  When they weren’t being assholes.

“That’s up to Octavia.  And I’m still waiting for you to promise to behave tonight.  You won’t distract me from that.”

Raven looks offended.  “Clarke, what exactly are you afraid is going to happen?  Lexa is just your friend, right?  It will be just like me meeting Octavia.”

Clarke knew it would be nothing like that.

She had a feeling Raven knew too.

“Just promise.”

“Fine.  I promise I will behave…whatever that means.”

“Good.”  She pauses to gauge Raven’s sincerity. “Okay…  I’m showering first.”

 

* * *

 

An hour and a half later, Raven and Clarke were back at Drop Ship for the second time in 48 hours.  Clarke had let Raven talk her into wearing a flowy, sleeveless top and some skin tight jeans.  She refused to budge on her slip on shoes, though, unwilling to allow her feet to be uncomfortable when she was already so anxious about seeing Lexa.

_It’s going to be fine.  Here to hang out with Raven and see some friends.  That’s all._

When they get inside, Clarke notices that there are more people here than usual.  Clarke thinks maybe it is because it is Saturday, but the vibe seems a little different.  The music is a little louder, as is the crowd.  There is also a makeshift dancefloor in the middle of room, though there don’t seem to be too many people dancing just yet.

Raven is already smiling ear to ear.  She is in her element.

“Excellent. God, I need this!  Griff, I don’t know if I mentioned, but it has been a while since I have really gone out and gotten crazy.”

Clarke smiles and continues to look around.  “You have actually mentioned it about five times in the last hour.”

“I just want you to be prepared for whatever happens.”  She winks and pulls Clarke to the bar, easily maneuvering them to the front of the crowd.  “Can we get two shots of house whiskey and two whiskey gingers?”

“Woah, Ray.  I’m not sure I should start out with shots.  I’m not sure if I can manage like I did in college anymore.” 

Raven just grips Clarke’s shoulder and gives her a bright smile.  “I believe in you, Princess!”

Clarke laughs, knowing she won’t win this argument.

“Hey, Clarke.”

Clarke smiles as she turns to the familiar voice, trying not to grin too much like an idiot.

“Lexa, hey!  Hey Anya, nice to see you again.”  Lexa is standing with her hands behind her back, and her smile looks a little off, but she’s still gorgeous.  She's wearing her hair down in curls, with a top not that different from Clarke's in design, except it is deep green.  She sees her green eyes, which are brought out by her shirt, briefly glance over Clarke’s body, before shooting towards Raven, who is pushing towards Lexa with a little too much eagerness.

“Lexa, so nice to meet you!  I have heard so much about you!”  Her tone is overly friendly.  Clarke makes an apologetic face at Lexa, who just gives a surprised smile as Raven shakes her hand.

“Uh, hi…yeah, me too.  This is Anya.”  Anya is standing with her usual stoic, bored face, grinning lightly at Clarke, before giving a short nod at Raven.

Raven, however, is having none of it.

“Well, aren’t you dark, brooding, and mysterious?  I think you need a drink.  You too, Lex!  For old times’ sake!  Hey, can you make that four shots?” She yells towards the bartender.

Lexa just looks confused, but Anya actually has a brief smile on her face, before returning to her withering stare, only the ghost of a smirk present.  Raven hands out the shots, and everyone else looks a little bewildered.

“Cheers!”

_And we’re off._

* * *

 

Clarke is 100% sure that Lexa is avoiding her.

 It is beyond giving her space, at this point.  After their first shots, she made an excuse and made her way back over to Lincoln, Echo, and some other people Clarke didn’t recognize, leaving Anya with Clarke and Raven.  Raven did not mind one bit.

“So Anya, what’s your deal?  You look positively bored to be here.”

Anya, to Clarke’s surprise, smiles again.

“I’m not bored.  I’m just extremely mean.”

Raven laughs at this. “Oh, I see.  Well, Clarke here has told me on several occasions that I could stand to be taken down a few pegs.  Looking for a challenge?”

“Oh, Jesus.” Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s imminent failure, and opts to be elsewhere.  “I’ll catch up with you later, Raven.”

Now Clarke was with Octavia, who she found chatting with some girls near the dance floor, half listening to their conversation, but mostly staring across the room at Lexa, whose back was to her and hadn’t spoken to her for the last 25 minutes.

_What is going on?  Last time I was here, she didn’t leave my side all night.  Now she will barely look at me._

_Relax.  Maybe she just wants to hang out with her friends tonight._

_But we’re supposed to be friends…_

Friends.  Yes.  They are friends and nothing more.  Friends who have shared a few kisses…some deep, personal secrets…and a discussion about being more than friends…

_Clarke thought back to her panic the night before, and realized how stupid it was, because she really just wanted to be around the girl._

_But, apparently, now Lexa was not as 'sweet' and into Clarke as she had thought._

_Confused.  So confused._

She thought the whiskey was probably letting her thoughts run a little more than usual.

_I'm so sure that's it..._

She is brought out of her revelry by a voice she hadn’t heard in years, booming over everyone around her.  She actually sees people turn to stare for a moment.

“Clarke Griffin!  Get your ass over here!”

She sees the tall, shaggy haired form of Bellamy Blake come out from behind the bar, arms wide, grin wider.  He has grown up quite a bit from the lanky teenager he was when Clarke last saw him.  A smile takes over her face.

“Bell!”  She walks quickly to him as he wraps her in a warm hug, lifting her off the ground for several seconds before setting her back down gently.  It is so comforting and genuine.  She hadn’t even realized how much she had missed the deep boom of his voice and how warm he always was to the touch.

“Oh my god!  You grew up!”  It’s a strange thing to say, but she can barely get over how much more like a man he looks than a boy.

“Us humans do tend to do that Griff.  How are you?” 

She laughs.  “Pretty good, pretty good.  I heard you own this shit hole?” 

He takes the jibe with a dramatic grasp at his heart.  “You wound me Griffin!  I will have you know that this place is doing very well.  I have made it quite a popular shit hole.”

Clarke nods.  “It is actually a pretty great place, Bell.  You’ve done pretty well.” 

He beams at her.  They are broken out of their moment by a crash behind the bar.

“Ah, and that is my cue.  Duty calls.  I’ll find you later, Clarke.  Don’t run off on me again!”  She smiles, watching him walk away to deal with is adult responsibilities.  _Weird._

She turns to find Octavia.  “He looks so different!  All grown up.”

“Yeah, I guess.  He’s still an asshole.”  She shrugs, and Clarke laughs at the familiar words she’s heard so many times before.

Suddenly Lincoln appears between them, gently placing his fingertips on Octavia’s shoulder to alert her of his presence.  Her face softens dramatically and she gives a gentle “hey” that Clarke can barely hear over the crowd.  She decides to make herself scarce.

When she turns, she finds a wide-eyed Lexa looking at her like a deer in headlights.  She quickly recovers.

“Hey, again.”

“Hey…where you been?”  She tries to be gentle, not push too much.

“Oh, you know, just hanging out with Lincoln until he got up the courage to go talk to Octavia.”  She smiles at the couple.  “He is pretty smitten, with her.  It’s actually pretty adorable.  I’ve never seen him like this.”

Clarke tears her eyes away from Lexa, and glances at them, too.  “Yeah, same with her.  It’s weird, but I guess, if it’s right, its right.”

When she looks back at Lexa, she is looking down at her drink, a faintly pained expression on her face. “Yeah.  Um, I am going to go and find Anya.  She’ll probably be pissed I left her alone.”

Clarke speaks up before she can stop herself.  “I think she was with Raven.  They seem to be hitting it off actually.  I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Well, I should probably just make sure.  In case…”

“Lexa.”  She sees her fumble a little as she tries to turn.  “Is something wrong?  Did I do something?”

“No! No, of course not.  You didn’t do anything?  Why?”  She looks guilty.  Clarke can see it all over her face.

“I feel like you’ve been kind of…avoiding me.”  She does her best to remember the faces she made in the mirror.

_Don’t furrow your brow.  Don’t look vulnerable. Keep it clear.  Keep it cool. No expression.  You got this._

“No, no, I just, you know…want to hang out with _all_ my…friends.  You know, give everyone equal time.”  It was a strange thing to say, but Clarke was getting the message, and her stomach was churning.  “Haven’t really seen Lincoln or…Echo…all week, so, you know…making the rounds.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”  _It’s okay.  You are friends.  That’s fine._   “Well, we are friends, right?  I can go with you to find Anya?  If that’s okay?”

“Um, yeah.  Sure, that would be good.”

They silently move through the crowd, towards where they last saw the two girls.  Lexa continues to maintain more distance than usual.

They both stop and stare in shock at what they see. 

Anya is laughing, like really, truly laughing.  It’s the first time Clarke has seen it happen and, from the look on Lexa’s face, it’s is not common for her either.  Raven is continuing to say something near the girl’s face, smiling lightly.  Clarke can see that Raven’s hand, that is closest to the bar, is resting against Anya’s side, almost hidden from view.

When Anya sees them, she straightens up a little, but can’t quite rid herself of the smile.  “Um, hey Lex.”

“…hey, An.”  Lexa still looks a little flabbergasted.

“I need to pee.  Join me?”  Anya reaches out and grabs Lexa’s hand and pulls her away, before she can respond.  As Lexa goes, she gives a confused look back at Clarke and is pulled out of sight.

“I like her.”

“I can see that.  You know, I’ve never actually seen her laugh before.”

Raven smiles, a look of surprise on her face.  “Really?  She’s pretty funny, actually.”  Clarke doesn’t push it.  She doesn’t really know what to think of it.

“So Lexa seems…different than I was expecting.”  Raven sends her a questioning look.

“What do you mean?”  She tries to keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

“I mean…well, she’s definitely hot. That much is obvious. Got some bitch face going on, but I can dig that.  But she’s kind of…”

“Cold.”  Clarke lets it slip.

Raven just looks at her with raised eyebrows.

Clarke breaks, feeling her frustration suddenly bubbling over.  “She’s being so weird.  It’s like she’s been avoiding me all night, and I’m not sure if I did something or what, but we decided to be friends, so it’s not like I have any right to complain and…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…here, Princess.”  She hands her a shot.  She can smell immediately that it is tequila.

“Where did you get this?  When did you…”

“Shhh.  Drink.”

She takes it and feels it burn her throat and spread heat through her chest.

“We’re here to have a good time.  So you know what we’re gonna do?”

Clarke pauses.  “Have a goo…”

“HAVE A FUCKING GOOD TIME! EXACTLY!”

Clarke cannot help the laugh that escapes her.

_If anyone can salvage a good night, it’s Raven._

* * *

 

She can feel warmth radiating throughout her body.  She has a familiar lightness in her muscles; a free feeling in her chest.  It has been a while since she has felt this way, and she knows Raven is partly responsible.

The lights are lower in the bar now, particularly the dance floor, which is completely dark, except for fleeting arrays of bright lights and splashes of color.  Anya had left a while ago, letting them know she had to work in the morning, but actually looking like she wanted to stay.  Again, Clarke thought that Raven was probably responsible.

Clarke was laughing with her whole body, as she listened to Raven and Octavia banter about something silly.  They are at the point in the argument that seems to have devolved into each of them being overly-cocky, interspersed with some shameless flirting, that Clarke has learned is how they seem most comfortable interacting. 

She has been ignoring the eyes she has felt on her face for the past 15 minutes, coming from just down the bar.  When she looks towards where Lexa and Lincoln are standing, she sees green eyes boring into her.  They quickly look away.

_No._ She stops her mind from racing.  It’s much easier with the alcohol.  _We are friends._

_And I am going to enjoy myself._

When her laugh falters slightly, she knows Raven sees it.  She feels Raven grab her hand and pull her in the direction of the dance floor before she can think anymore thoughts.

“You know what time it is, Princess.”  She reaches out and grabs Octavia as well.  “Come on, Octavia.  We’re dancing.”

“Yes!”  Octavia actually cheers as she follows.  Clarke smiles.  She has never seen Octavia quite this drunk before.  Probably another thing she has missed from disappearing for so long.

As they make their way through the now numerous people on the dance floor, she feels arms pull her in, and she knows what is coming.  She can recognize how drunk Raven is by the way she is moving.  It’s a little sloppy; she’s all hips and arms.  Even after all these years, she smiles at the recognition of the signs.

Raven pulls Clarke’s back to Raven’s front and begins to sway them side to side, moving her hips to the music, her arms pulling Clarke's up in ridiculous movements, before leaving them to run down Clarke’s sides.  Clarke keeps her arms into the air, feeling the music and the alcohol pounding in her veins.  She sees Octavia in front of her, moving closer, swaying to the beat, and smiling with glassy eyes.

Suddenly, Lincoln is there, behind Octavia, whispering something in her ear, making her blush.  She watches as Octavia turns in his arms and they slow, holding eye contact that seems so intimate, Clarke feels like she’s intruding on something.  As if they are separate from everyone else, listening to a different, softer, slower song, dancing in their own room.  Clarke smiles and raises her eyes to the ceiling, feeling the need to give them privacy, even though she knows they are in the middle of a crowd.

Her own heart aches at the thought of their happiness, for some reason.  She continues to smile thinking of Octavia, so clearly lost in Lincoln; Octavia’s smile so full and clear; so sure.  But she is surprised to feel tears sting her eyes, and a feeling that maybe she has lost something of her own, before she knew she had it.  The alcohol is causing her hear the thud of her heart more than usual.

She hears Raven’s voice in her ear.  “Hey Princess. You okay?”

She’s not sure how Raven knows, but Clarke is determined to stay in this moment.  Get lost in it if she can.  Enjoy it.  Drown in it.

The beat becomes heavier; deeper.  It is thick, and Clarke can feel it in her ribs.  She turns quickly towards Raven, and smirks.  Her tears are gone.

“I’m great Ray.  Let’s break some hearts out here.  Like old times.”

Clarke sees trouble in Raven’s eyes as she responds, “Hell yeah.”

She drapes her arms around Raven’s neck and feels her hands on her hips.  It reminds her so much of college.  They speak with their eyes, daring each other to see how far they will take it.  Clarke pushes her hips closer to Raven as Raven begins to run her hands over Clarke’s hips, gripping more firmly.  She sees Raven’s eyes focus over Clarke’s shoulder for a moment, before her smirk grows wider.  Raven pulls her closer and whispers in her ear.

“We have an audience.”

Clarke turns in Ravens arms, staying close, expecting to see some leering guy or girl trying to get closer, but instead she finds Lexa.

Lexa’s face is stone.  Her eyes are holding Clarke’s.  Her pupils are wide, and her eyes are burning.  Clarke can tell she’s been drinking, but her body is perfectly still. She looks like an island in the middle of a sea of bodies.  She is a silhouette, lit by backlight, intermittently splashed by specks of light and color.

Clarke doesn’t give anything away.  Her heart is pounding furiously, as if she has been caught at something. 

_But I haven’t.  Friend’s right?_

She smirks at her thought.Lexa’s jaw visibly clenches.  She continues to move, pressing into Raven, never breaking the eye contact she has found.  It is her lifeline.  She feels like this is the most intimate interaction they have had all evening.  Possibly all week.  It feels like a dare; a challenge.  While she felt nothing before, now that she is making eye contact with Lexa, her body feels much warmer.  She feels a familiar ache growing at the apex of her thighs, and in her belly. Raven’s touch is doing things to her that it has never done before, and she knows it’s because Lexa is watching.

She lets Raven’s hands continue to sit on her hips and she reaches her hand up over her shoulder, behind her, and grips the back of Raven’s head, bringing it forward.  She can hear Raven gasp in surprise at the action, but then there is a quick chuckle and she startles when she feels Ravens lips on her neck.

It happens so fast, she barely has time to process before Lexa is there, gripping her wrist and pulling her off the dance floor.  She almost stumbles at the speed of it, as she watches Lexa shove people out of the way, until they are outside, where Lexa continues to pull her to the side of the building and presses her up against the wall, and stops.  Freezes.

Lexa looks stuck, like she doesn’t know what to do now.  Clarke can feel a hand pressing against the side of her stomach, holding her there against the wall, and the look in Lexa’s eyes is desperate and pained as they search Clarke’s.  Her body is so close, Clarke can feel the warmth radiating off of it.

Clarke almost wants to comfort her.

_Almost._

But Lexa has been ignoring her.  And Lexa is the one who just freaked out and pulled her outside.  Lexa is the one who should speak first.

“I…”  Lexa starts but she stops just as quickly.  She blinks her eyes and then squeezes them shut.

Clarke presses her palms against the building to fight the urge to touch Lexa.  Part is her is afraid she may not get another chance.  The silence is heavy, and Clarke feels like it might break her. 

Finally, she can't take the weight of unspoken words any longer.

“Lexa.  What is going on?”  She wishes she could hide the hurt evident in her voice a little better.

Lexa stays silent, but suddenly surges forward and presses her lips to Clarkes.  Clarke almost goes with it.  It’s all she wanted while she was dancing; all night, even.  She almost falls into those beautiful warm lips.  It would be so easy.  And she could make sure they wouldn’t stop this time.

But she surprises herself, again.

“No Lexa!”  She pushes her backwards at the shoulders, but keeps a grip on them, afraid that if she strays too far, the girl might run.  “You can’t just kiss me again.  You ignored me all night, and then flew into a jealous frenzy and dragged me out here.  Tell me what is going on.”

She can see unshed tears in Lexa’s eyes, but she furrows her brow and her only response is, “I’m not jealous.”

Clarke lets a bitter laugh rip through her throat. “Oh!  Sure, well…then I think I’ll just go back and finish my dance…” she moves to leave, but Lexa grips her against the wall more firmly.

“Clarke…” her voice cracks, and Clarke tries not to feel it in her gut.   “Please, I… couldn’t stand it.  I couldn’t watch someone else touching you like that.  Her lips on you…it just.  Ugh!”  She lets out a frustrated growl, and Clarke becomes aware of the residual arousal still present and vibrating throughout her body.

_Not now!_

She watches as Lexa pulls her lips between her teeth and closes her eyes, calming herself.  When she opens her eyes, again, she meets Clarke’s gaze.

“I tried to…I wanted to slow things down.  I can’t…I mean, I didn’t think I could let this happen.  Not right now.  Its not a good time.  I feel so much, way more than I should.  More than I have in a long time…and there is still so much you don’t know…and so much I don’t know…and it all feels too fast.  Too soon.  Too big.  And I have things that I have to focus on and things I need to finish.  I’m not ready to be something more. But I…” Her gaze softens and Clarke feels relief at the sight of it, for some reason.  “I don’t think I can just be your friend.  You were never just a friend.  I don’t want other people touching you like that.  Or kissing you.”  She breathes out again; a long jagged breath.

“But I know I have no right to ask any of this.  And I’m sorry I…I just…I…” Clarke has to step in.  It hurts her to see Lexa like this.

“Lexa.”  She reaches her hands up and gently places them on either side of her face, positioning her so that their eyes meet.  “You should have just talked to me.”

She looks ashamed, “I know.  I was just afraid.  I thought I could push it away.  Pretend it wasn’t there, but…then Raven…”  She sees Lexa’s eyes grow angry.

_Well that’s gonna be a problem…_

“Hey, look…don’t worry about Raven okay…she’s just my friend.”

“Friends don’t dance like that, Clarke.” 

Clarke just shrugs.  “Well...we kind of always have.”  She looks down, a little ashamed, “Though I think she was putting on a special show for you…”

“What?  Why would she…”

“Because she could tell I was upset.”  She tries not to snap, but Lexa's anger at Raven is reminding Clarke of why it happened in the first place.

Lexa’s eyes fall at that.  “I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry Clarke.  I have never done anything like this.  It’s been so long since I…”  For the first time, Clarke sees fear in Lexa’s eyes.  “I don’t know if I can be enough for you Clarke.  You deserve so much and I don’t know if I can be what you need.”  She sees a tear break from Lexa’s eye and she immediately pulls her in for a hug.  Lexa buries her face in Clarke’s neck.

“Hey, its okay, Lexa.”  She rubs her hand over the girl’s back a few times, gently up and down, waiting for her to calm down.  She doesn’t think she cried more than a single tear, but she can feel her shaky breath on her neck, probably from the effort of holding any more tears back. It feels like something Lexa would do.

When she calms, Clarke pulls her back to look into her eyes again.

“I told you before that slow is good.  I need that, just as much as you.  And you don’t have to be anything but you, Lexa.  I like you.  A lot.  And…I’m a little scared too.  This all seems a little….well…ridiculous really,” she smiles as Lexa lets a chuckle escape her mouth.  “But it feels real.  And…I don’t know…maybe we could just not label anything but agree to see where it goes?  No pressure, no promises, just…keep hanging out?  I’m not even remotely interested in anyone else Lexa.  You know that right?”

“Well…what about Bellamy?”

Clarke can’t help her loud explosion of laughter.  “What?!  Bellamy?  Bellamy Blake?  God no.”

“Oh…I just, you looked really…”

“Lexa…I have to say, I would have never pegged you as the jealous type.  But you are on a roll tonight.”  Clarke smirks at her and Lexa just rolls her eyes.  “Bellamy is like my brother.  That’s just sick.  It would be like you dating Lincoln.”  Lexa pulls a disgusted face that brings a giggle to Clarke's lips.

Lexa looks relieved and much more relaxed than she has all night.

“I’m not either, you know….Interested in anyone else I mean.”

“Good.  And you are enough, Lexa.  I care about you, okay?  You, as you are. I don’t need anything more than that.”  Clarke smiles.  She can tell Lexa wants to kiss her, but she doesn’t think she is up for it right now.  Too much has happened in too short a time.  And she still feels a small pang in her chest at how the night unfolded.  She just needs to breathe and think for a while.

“Lexa.  Can we make _one_ promise?  Just one.”

“I can probably manage that.”

“Can we agree to talk from now on?  Because I don’t think I can handle the silent treatment again.  It hurt a lot more than…” she looks down. Clarke feels suddenly very vulnerable, until she feels Lexa grip her hand tightly, and she looks up to meet her eyes.

“We can talk.  We will talk.  I’ll talk.  I promise.”

They stare at each other for a few quiet moments, before walking, hand in hand, back into the bar.


	11. The morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo much processing. Hangovers. More sad stories. Cuteness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, my chapters seem to keep getting longer and longer. And the POV switches a lot in this one.

Lexa opens her eyes, and closes them immediately.  The sunlight streaming through her window stings and a pounding in her head becomes painfully apparent.  She groans and rolls over, burying her face in her pillow. 

The night comes rushing back in flashes as she nuzzles her head further into her bedding.

She had failed.

Failed miserably; irrevocably; entirely.

And she was actually fucking _happy_ about it.

She was surprised to find herself smiling through her grimace, face still being smooshed by the cloth of her pillow case.

It had been a slow realization that had, bit by bit, chipped away at her resolve.  Throughout the night, small, yet monumental occurrences began to shift her formerly held conclusion that distance from Clarke was the right choice.  Each of those moments played again in her head, fuzzy around the edges, but clearly important just the same.  She relives each one, examining her reactions… 

 _When she sees Bellamy lift Clarke off her feet, Lexa feels needles in her chest at Clarke’s excitement._  

_When she watches Clarke look so fondly at Octavia’s happiness with Lincoln, Lexa’s heart melts at Clarke’s affection for her friend._

_When Clarke’s hurt shines through her eyes at Lexa’s actions, Lexa’s guilt bubbles in her stomach.  It doesn’t feel right._

_When Clarke is losing herself in laughter with Raven and Octavia, Lexa is immediately wishing she could listen to nothing but that beautiful sound for the rest of the evening._

_When Clarke is dancing_ ….

Lexa feels her blood boil, then and now, just thinking about it.

She remembers standing in the middle of the dance floor, which she had never stepped foot on, in all the years she had been going to the Drop Ship.  She had no idea how she got there, but there she stood, frozen, staring.  She couldn’t blink.  Her jaw hurt from clenching.  Her anger and her arousal were at war inside her body, as she watched Raven’s finger tips grip at hips, their bodies continuing to press into each other. 

She remembers Clarke’s eyes on her own, daring her to do something; anything.  Daring her to show her hand; to break her façade.

She remembers barely being able to breathe.

Until Raven’s lips touched Clarke’s neck.

And all Lexa’s perfectly constructed lies that she was telling herself; all her compartmentalized emotions; all of her organized plans for conquering her desires…they were all smashed to pieces.

And, again, she lost some time.  She remembers, suddenly, being outside, holding Clarke against the wall.  She had felt that if she let her go, it would be over.  She would never get another chance.

But it was such a relief to be touching her, to be near her.  And as Clarke’s voice filled her ears, and Clarke’s fingers found her face, she knew she couldn’t hide from it.

There was no denying what she was feeling.

_It was idiotic to try._

Clarke was like a magnet, and Lexa was powerless to fight the force of her pull.

The happiness that filled her as she lie there in bed, fighting off a hangover, was a strange happiness...she couldn't quite identify it.

It was a happiness of...

 _...not bliss_. 

She still ached at the guilt of how she acted; how she treated Clarke.  Lexa could still see the pain and the thoughts racing behind her deep blue eyes.  She knew Clarke wouldn’t just get over this.

 _...not contentment, either._  

She was still anxious about what would happen.  Still wracking her brain for solutions to problems she knew she had created.  Lexa had stayed near Clarke for the rest of the night, but they didn’t touch any more.  She had a feeling Clarke needed the space.  Lexa was grateful for the closeness she was allowed, though.  Knew it was more than she deserved. 

No, this happiness…it was a happiness of…

_...of purpose.  Of certainty._

She actually knew what she wanted.  She knew she had been a fool to think that there would ever be a perfect time for it; that there would be any option to push it away or ignore it.

_…that it was anything like what I had before._

Because it wasn’t.  It felt like peace, rather than chaos.  It felt like safety, rather than the panic of falling.  It felt different than anything she had ever experienced before.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Clarke.

And she was so sure of it.  Sure that she could easily make time for her.  Sure that she would try to be good enough for her.  Absolutely certain that she did not want to not fuck up again.

_I don’t have any other option._

_She’s not a distraction._

_She’s important._

_She’s a gift.  From the universe…or the Earth…or, simply, from Clarke herself._

_She’s giving me a chance._

She smiles and her headache may as well not exist.

***

An hour later, Lexa is up and showered.  She had realized it was only 9:30…much earlier than she had planned on being up, but she had an itch to do something useful.

She texted Clarke.

**Lexa – Hey.**

**Lexa – I don’t know if you’re awake yet, but I was thinking about bringing you and Raven some breakfast, if you were up for it?**

Lexa realizes that she has never been to Clarke’s apartment, and wishes she had thought of that fact before she sent the message.

_She might not feel like having you there after…all that._

**Lexa – Or we could just meet for breakfast.**

**Lexa – Or not, whatever you want.**

**Lexa – Sorry**

_Oh my god, stop._

**Lexa – Hope you are feeling okay this morning :)**

Lexa sits her phone down on the table, and walks to the other side of the room, needing some distance from it, before she embarrasses herself further.  As she sits on the couch, she cradles her head in her hands, massaging her temples, willing the still present ache to die down.

_I need coffee._

She sits for a few moments, beginning to think that Clarke is still sleeping, when she hears a ding and a buzz from the table.

She’s up and next to it in 2 seconds.

**Clarke – Breakfast sounds great, but I don’t think I’m likely to get Raven out of the apartment for a few more hours.**

**Clarke – you can swing by if you would like.**

Lexa releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding when Clarke sends her the address.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke wakes and feels like she has only just closed her eyes.  She looks out the window and sees that the sun has barely come up.  Her phone tells her that it is 7:15am. She is not sure why she is so wide awake at such an ungodly hour.  She knows she wants to go back to sleep, but she feels a restlessness push her to a sitting position and she swings her legs off the side of the bed.

She glances over her shoulder and sees Raven splayed out, one arm and one leg hanging over the side of the bed, mouth agape and releasing quiet snores.  She is motionless and Clarke smiles at the messy state of her friend.

She walks out of the room, gently closing the door behind her, and stands in middle of the living room for a quiet moment.  She’s trying not listen to that tiny voice in her head, telling her to go to the kitchen drawer and find the only relief she can think of at the moment. 

Her thoughts are not racing.  She is not trying to work anything out.  She isn’t freaking out about anything.

She is simply feeling…tired.  And numb.

It is the numbness that is concerning.  It is too familiar, but she hasn’t experienced it like this in a while.  She thinks that hangover may be to blame.  She hasn’t experienced that in a while either.

_And Lexa._

She closes her eyes briefly.  She doesn’t even think, as she makes her way to the kitchen and reaches in the drawer to pull out what she has been avoiding.  She decides to grab a glass of water as well, before she walks to the patio, slides the glass door open quietly, and steps out.  She reaches back inside quickly to pull a blanket from the couch when she feels an unexpected morning chill, before sliding the door closed.

As she sits in the creaky fold out chair, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she pulls a cigarette from the slightly crumbled pack in her hand and flicks the lighter a few times, before inhaling deeply.

She hadn’t smoked in so long, never really having become accustomed to it on a regular basis.  But sometimes, when she felt like wallowing or staring off into nothingness, she liked holding one in her fingertips and feeling that very specific and temporary calm in her mind.  It was always comforting to her, holding on to small part of her self-destructiveness, to avoid destroying herself in more harsh and explosive ways.  It felt like connecting with the girl she used to be; the part of that girl that she sometimes missed.

The smoke doesn’t taste good, but it is oddly comforting and makes her head tingle slightly for a few moments.

She thinks about the events of the night before and part of her is happy; happy that Lexa finally broke and started talking to her; happy that she got to spend the rest of the night near her; thankful that it ended up being a fun evening, overall.

Lexa had shifted completely after their talk.  She watched Clarke attentively, and was never more than a foot away from her at any time for the rest of the night.  Clarke mostly sat and talked with Octavia and Lincoln, very much enjoying Octavia’s inebriation.  They were all entertained watching Raven dance with several random people and, for quite a while, dancing with herself, happy as a clam.  Lexa just observed it all, barely speaking.  Whenever Clarke met Lexa’s eyes, she always had apologies burning behind them, and a gentle smile on her face.

But she seemed to sense that Clarke didn’t want to hear them; that she wasn’t ready for any of their usual heated eye contact or flirty banter.  She wasn’t in the mood for exploring their relationship or talking about their feelings any further.

Clarke had concerns.  She wasn’t used to so much…drama.  Clarke recalls just a few weeks ago when she barely spoke to anyone outside of work; when she felt unattached and everything was simple. She had always hated drama.  And people always brought drama.  That’s why she avoided them.

_But I don’t regret it._

She knew that it was good.  Being alone was so clean.  She never had to get her hands dirty with other people’s issues.  Right now she felt tired and messy, but she also felt more…content.  Less empty.  She felt that something with Lexa was changing, and it scared her, and she had so many concerns after last night…but it was also…inviting.  The messiness was kind of nice, in a way.

_Maybe the messiness is the point._

She stared blankly at the sky for a few more minutes, finishing her water, before realizing that her cigarette was almost gone.  She tamped it out on the ground, and turned to go back inside.

She didn’t feel much of a hangover anymore.

She tucked the cigarette butt deep in the trash can, brushed her teeth intensely, changed shirts, and shook out her hair, trying to rid herself of any residual smoke smell.

As she crawled back into bed next to Raven, who hadn’t budged from her position, she drifted off to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She didn’t wake until she heard Lexa’s text an hour and a half later, feeling much more refreshed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Clarke, why do you _not_ look like you are dying?”

“Probably because I didn’t drink as much as you…nor did anyone else in the Western Hemisphere.”

Raven tries to chuckle, but it ends as a groan.  “I don’t know, Octavia had her fair share.”

Clarke smiles at this.  “Yeah, but I saw Lincoln pouring water down her throat for the last hour, so she is still probably in better shape than you.”

“Whatever.  You still drank a good amount.  I was watching!  It’s not fair!”  Raven covers herself fully with the blanket as she curls further into the couch.  “I’m feeling very lonely in my hangover.  I was promised food!  Where is your girl?”

Clarke just rolls her eyes and smirks, ignoring Raven.  She turns to look out of the window next to her chair.  She didn’t tell Raven about getting up early and going back to sleep.  She knew Raven would be mad.  They used to always try to wake each other up early after a night of drinking, so that they could chug water and have a much more restful sleep session afterwards.  It seemed to do miracles for hangovers.

But Clarke had needed the quiet alone time.  Her head was clearer now, but she was still going over the end of the evening in her head.

 

_When they finally left the Drop Ship, Lexa gripped her hand firmly in between her own, as Clarke went to follow Raven into the Uber.  Deep jade held her gaze, a hopeful glint shining through._

_“We’ll talk tomorrow?”  It sounded like a plea, and Clarke almost leaned in to kiss away the worry in her eyes._

_Instead she smiled lightly, and nodded.  “Of course, Lexa.”_

_That seemed to be enough to soften Lexa’s face, as Clarke climbed in the car and was driven away._

 

And that was it.

Clarke wasn’t sure where they landed.  Lexa’s behavior from earlier in the night had stuck with Clarke.  Something about the jealousy; about the sudden change in demeanor; about the sudden explosion of affection.  It scared Clarke.  It reminded her of something she didn’t want to think about. 

And it made her warier of the whole thing.

She knew Lexa was trying to protect herself; that she was nothing like Finn.  But she also knew how much it hurt having Lexa ignore her.  She knew how badly she wanted Lexa to feel jealous in that moment; to make Lexa feel some pain, the way that Clarke had.

She hated that she got like that.  She hated that Lexa pushed her to that point.  She hated that she cared so much.

She hated that she didn’t really hate it at all.

_I like Lexa.  I really like Lexa._

There wasn’t any point in denying it anymore. 

_At least that is a relief._

Lexa had apologized and had promised to be better.  And Clarke had actually believed her.  She looked sincere.  She could still see the tears of regret in her eyes.

But Clarke had heard Finn promise things before, too.  And she had believed him.  It never lasted.

_Ugh! Fucking Finn!_

_I hate that he is still messing with my head.  Still affecting my life!_

She hears a soft knock at the door, and her heart beats quicken.  Despite her lingering reticence to be okay with Lexa, she can’t help the smile that comes to her face.

She walks to the door and pulls it open, trying to will her face to stay passive.  She feels a swell of relief seeing Lexa in front of her, three coffees and a bag in hand.

“I come bearing gifts.”  Her voice is soft and sweet.  Clarke tries, and fails, to keep her heart from fluttering.

Raven appears from behind Clarke, lightly shoving the blonde aside and grabbing the bag from Lexa’s hand.

“Is that…do I smell breakfast burritos?!”  She pushes her face into the opening of the bag.  “God, you are beautiful, Lexa.”

Raven plods back to the coach, drops the bag on the coffee table and pulls out a foil wrapped burrito from inside, ripping it open and taking a gigantic bite, not even trying to keep her mouth open as she chews rabidly.

Clarke, just chuckles and steps aside, holding the door open for Lexa and waving her arm to signal the girl to enter.  She watches as the Lexa smiles shyly, before walking in, her eyes looking curiously around the room.

When she reaches the table and sets the drink tray with the coffees on it, she finally speaks.  “I like your place.  It’s cute.  Homey.”

Clarke shrugs, “It has served me well.”

“Lexa, please tell me you are feeling last night as much as me!  Clarke here has magically dodged any hangover and I’m alone in my pain.”

Lexa glances at Clarke before replying.  “I have a bit of a headache, but it’s not too bad.  I’ve been hydrating all morning.”  She grabs one of the coffees and waves it lightly in the air.  “And this helps.”  Clarke notices that her tone is a little tighter with Raven.

_I think someone may still be holding a grudge._

Clarke and Raven sit in silence around the coffee table, eating their burritos, as Raven makes almost obscene sounds of pleasure at the taste, throwing in a groan occasionally, for good measure.  Lexa is slowly walking around the walls of the apartment, examining every little thing carefully, sipping her coffee.  Clarke keeps her eyes on the girl, enjoying the way she moves so slowly and leisurely.  It’s nice to see her so laid back, meandering.  Clarke hasn’t really seen her like this before. 

 _Lexa is in my apartment._   Clarke enjoys the warmth the simple thought brings to her chest.

The whole situation is not as uncomfortable as Clarke thinks it should be.

“I like this.”  Lexa is pointing to a painting on the wall.  It is not a large canvas, maybe the size of a normal piece of paper, wider than it is tall.  The background is a sky, right after sunset, that starts as yellow at the bottom, and fades to orange, red, and then a deep crimson at the top.  The focus of the painting looks like a silhouette of tree; at the trunk it is dark blue, fading into a patch of ground that is the same color.  The leaves, however, are lighter blue with white interspersed throughout, giving it an almost dream-like quality; as if the tree is glowing.  “Where did you get it?”

Clarke looks at it and stutters, “Oh, uh…it’s just….”

“That’s Clarke’s!  She painted it.  It’s one of my favorites, too.”  Raven just keeps her eyes focused on her second burrito as she speaks, examining possibilities for her next mouthful.

Lexa looks pleasantly surprised.  “You painted this?”

Clarke can feel her face flush as she nods.

“Clarke,” Lexa looks back at the small painting.  “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh. No. I mean, it’s just…”

“Shut up, Clarke.”  Raven, again, barely looks up.  She has always criticized Clarke’s inability to accept compliments.

“Right.”  She closes her eyes for a second.  “Thank you.”

“You are very welcome.  I didn’t know you painted.”  Lexa looks at her curiously, her eyes full of questions, a soft grin on her lips.

“It’s just a hobby.  Most of them turn out pretty shitty.”  She gestures to the painting, “Occasionally, I get one that I like.”

“She’s lying.  She’s pretty good.  But, if you want to be impressed , you should read her writing.  That’s where the real magic is.”

Clarke wants to throw something at Raven.

“Wow, you write, too?”  Lexa looks stunned.

“No.”  Clarke is firm this time.

“Yes you do.”

“Shut up, Raven.”  She gives an exasperated look at Lexa.  “I used to write down ideas in my journal and someone,” she shoots a glare at Raven, “read it.  It was a complete invasion of privacy, by the way.”  Raven still looks unconcerned.  “But it’s just ideas and ramblings.  I wouldn’t call it real writing.”

“Oh.”  Lexa turns away, continuing to look around the room, but clearly thinking.  “I could see you being a writer.  I could see you being good at that, actually.”  She watches Lexa’s face, casual and still searching the room.  She tries to suppress the hope into her chest at Lexa’s words.  She doesn’t understand where it comes from.  Writing was something she wanted to do when she was much younger, but she knows she doesn’t have the talent or the patience for it.

She glances at the clock.

“Shit Raven!  You have to be at the airport in few hours, you should probably get packed.”

Raven face plants into the pillow on the couch.  “Nooooooooo.”  It’s muffled and prolonged.  Clarke smiles when she hears Lexa giggle at the sound.

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa doesn’t know what to do when Clarke goes to her room to get changed to take Raven to the airport.  She is alone with a slightly more put together Raven.  Her suitcase is sitting next to her, and she is unashamedly staring at Lexa.

It’s not that she dislikes Raven.  She actually finds her amusing most of the time.  But she keeps picturing Raven touching Clarke, and she hasn’t been able to convince herself to let it go quite yet.

“So, how was your evening?”  Lexa sees the smirk playing on Raven’s lips.

“It ended okay.”  She is trying to be calm, but cannot help the image that flashes through her mind of Raven’s lips on Clarke’s neck.  She feels her jaw lock.

“You know it was all for show, right?  For you?”  She looks slightly apologetic, but mostly, annoyingly amused.

Lexa is taken aback by Raven’s words.  She doesn’t respond.

“I have never, nor will I ever, have any interest in being anything other than Clarke’s best friend.”  She just looks at her, as normally as if she had made a comment on the weather.

Lexa isn’t sure what to say so she just manages, “Okay.”

“But I take that job very seriously.”  Her eyes are more menacing now, as she continues.

“Clarke has been through a hell of a lot.  And she deserves more than someone who plays games or doesn’t understand how special she is.”  Again, her tone is so normal, but the warning in her words, visible in her eyes, is clear.

“I know.”

“If you hurt…”

Lexa doesn’t let her finish before speaking firmly. “I won’t.” 

She holds Raven’s gaze, feeling certain of her words.

Raven looks a little surprised, but a small smirk returns and she gives an almost imperceptible nod.

Clarke makes her way back into the living room.  “Okay, Ray, you ready?”

Raven looks away from Lexa and responds. “Ugh, I guess.  It seems pointless!  I’ll be back in like 3 weeks.”

“I know, I know.”  Clarke rolls her eyes and looks at Lexa as Raven gathers her things.  “Thanks for bringing by breakfast.  It was sweet.  And I know Raven is grateful.” Lexa’s heart thumps as she sees the most genuine smile she has seen all morning break across Clarke’s face.

She is distracted from it by Raven, as the girl speaks loudly, clearly trying to imitate a child’s voice, “Thank you Miss Lexa!” 

She can’t stop her laugh, rolling her eyes.  “Well, now you are ready for a nice hangover nap on the plane.”  She felt herself warming slghtly after her moment with Raven.

“Too right you are!  See you soon, Sexy Lexy.”  Lexa has no response, other than a confused look at the nickname, so she just waves at Ravens back, as she rolls her suitcase out the door and down the hall.  Lexa follows Clarke into the hall.

She turns to her, as Clarke is locking her door.  “Um, do you have any plans tonight?  I was hoping we could maybe talk?  Over dinner…or just coffee, if you prefer?  Or whatever…” 

Clarke lets her eyes trace over Lexa’s face, as they walk towards the building’s exit, where Raven is standing just outside the door, watching them knowingly through the window. 

“Sure, Lexa.  Dinner sounds great.”  She sees a barely visible smile on Clarke’s lips.

Lexa is somewhat surprised at her good fortune. “Uh…cool.  Awesome.  Good, good.  So, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Okay, I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

Lexa watches Clarke and Raven pile into the car.  As they pull away, Raven rolls the window down, and leans her entire torso out, dramatically blowing a kiss.  “May we meet again!”

She sees Clarke pull her roughly back in as they make it to the road, and drive away.

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke pulls to the curb at the airport, puts the car in park, and looks at Raven. 

“Well, Princess.  You sure do know how to show a girl a good time.”  Clarke knows she’ll be back in 3 weeks, but she hates to see Raven go.  Apparently it shows.

“Hey, I’ll be back so soon.  And then you’re stuck with me!”

Clarke laughs, “Oh, god, don’t remind me.”

Raven just shoves her lightly.  “So you have a date tonight?”

“What?  How did you…”  Clarke shakes away her surprise.  She doesn't know why she bothers.  “It’s not a date.  We’re just going to talk.”

“I really hope you guys stop kidding yourselves soon with all this ‘we’re just friends’ and ‘she’s not my lady’ shit.  I saw her when you guys came back into the bar last night.  She couldn’t take her eyes off of you.”  She smirks, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Clarke just glares at her. 

“Hey, she may still have had that stick up her ass if I hadn’t played puppet master and saved the day!”

“Ray…”

“Okay, look, I’m sorry things got so sloppy.  But aren’t you glad…at least a little?  I mean, you guys seem…good now.  Right?”

“I don’t know.  It’s just…complicated.  With Lexa, everything is just so…” she tries to find her words.  “It feels like a lot.  What if I’m not ready for something like this?”

“Clarke.”  Raven has a rare serious expression on her face, and Clarke knows she means business.  “She’s not Finn.  She’s nothing like Finn.”  Clarke knows it’s true, but she needed to hear it anyway. 

“And that thing…that thing you’re feeling.  That terrifying shit.  That is rare.  That is probably what the rest of us, who are out there getting wasted and laid, are trying to find.  At least don’t give it up without giving it a chance, okay?”

Clarke just nods her head, unable to speak.

“I’m gonna miss you, bitch.”  Raven pulls her into a hug.  “And tell Octavia that if she doesn’t want to move in with us, that we’ll turn the third bedroom into a sex room for thos threesome's we were discussing.  She’ll know what it means.”

Clarke shoves her away lightly.  “Get out of here.  Your hangover is making your quips sloppy.”

Raven winks over her shoulder as she exits the car.

***

Clarke is nervous.  Again.  She dropped Raven off, drove back to her apartment and, after staring at her phone for a solid 15 minutes, finally texted Lexa.

They had agreed to meet at a random restaurant that Clarke could walk to from her apartment, and here she stood, outside of the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

_It’s not a date._

She had prepared herself as such.  She had worn her skinny jeans and a t-shirt.  She had only put a dab of mascara on.  She hadn’t shaved her legs.

_Then why the fuck are you so nervous?_

It felt like a big deal.  It was the first time they had eaten a real meal together.  It was the first time that the activity that they were sharing wasn’t exercise or drinking.  It felt more real.

But she still didn’t know where they stood.  Or, more precisely, where she, herself, stood.  But everything felt different now.  They hadn’t labeled anything or decided what anything meant…but everything was out in the open.  Clarke saw that Lexa really cared about her; enough to make Lexa act like a completely different person; a little crazy, actually.

_Huh…I didn’t really think about it like that._

Clarke had been focused on the jealousy and the ignoring…but how Lexa reacted to her and Raven dancing, it was clear that, on some level, Clarke drove Lexa just as crazy as Lexa drove Clarke.

 _Well that’s…new._ The thought hadn’t really sunk in until just now.  Clarke had a spasm of…giddiness?

_Stop that!  Do you actually want to be driven crazy??_

Clarke wasn’t sure.  But this didn’t feel like a bad crazy.  It felt like a beautiful crazy.  A crazy that made her want to do anything if it meant Lexa would be next to her.

After this morning, it felt like Lexa had scrambled her brain again.  She was back to the Lexa that Clarke could not resist.  Jealous, cold Lexa was gone, and all she saw was sweet, irresistible Lexa, who looked at Clarke like she was the only person in the room (which is saying something because Raven was almost always where people were focused); who said such kind things, with her giant, sincere eyes; who had a presence that could distract Clarke from any other thought; who…

_Oh there she is!  So beautiful._

_Be cool, Clarke, damn!_

Lexa, it appeared, had the same idea as Clarke; keep it casual.  It didn’t deter from how stunning she was, in the least.  She was wearing black skinny jeans and simple t-shirt.  But the way she walked across the parking lot had Clarke’s eyes running all over her body; her steps were so confident and sure, her hips swaying slightly, and her tattoos, barely visible from the angle, made her look even more like a work of art that Clarke wanted to examine in detail.   

_So damn hot._

Clarke was, not for the first time, frustrated at how Lexa seemed to move in slow motion sometimes.  Suddenly, she was a few feet away and her smile was wide and lovely.

“Hey, how was the airport?”

“It was, you know, the airport.  Raven was annoyed to not be sleeping.  What have you been doing with your day?”

They turn to walk inside as they continue talking.

“I decided to try to study a little, since Anya was at work and I had the place to myself….but I may, or may not, have taken a quick nap instead.”

They get seated and get a table, and the conversation lulls.  Clarke can tell Lexa wants to say something, but she looks like she doesn’t know how to start.  Just as she’s about to speak, the waitress comes over to take their order.  When she leaves, both girls smile a little at the awkwardness.

“Clarke.”  The sound of her name clicks against Lexa’s tongue, and it is so gentle.  Clarke thinks there is more affection in her tone than she has heard before.  She tries not to read too much into it.

“I want to apologize again.  For last night.”  Lexa looks down at her hands, which she is holding securely in her lap.  “I acted like a child and, I…I really want to make it up to you.  And…maybe explain some things.  About myself.”  Lexa sighs, looking up again.  “I know it won’t excuse anything, but I…I would like you to understand why I’m so…messed up…” she pauses and runs a hand through her soft, chestnut hair.  Clarke can’t help but watch the action and fights the urge to reach out and touch the soft curls that are flowing over each other.

“Lexa, I appreciate that, but…I should probably apologize, too.  I’m not completely innocent here.  I shouldn’t have tried to get a rise out of you like I did.  It wasn’t fair.”

Lexa laughs, “Clarke you tried to talk to me, and I was just being stubborn.  As much as I really hated seeing that…” Clarke can see the pain in her face as she seems to be reliving the moment, “it snapped me out of my stupidity a little.  So I guess I should thank Raven.”  She lets a small, bitter chuckle.

“Please, never ever thank Raven for that.  It will only encourage her.”

Lexa laughs at this, “Yeah, probably not a great idea.”

Clarke sighs.  “Lexa, I have to be honest.  I was a little blind-sided by how you were acting…and by how I reacted to it.”  She pauses, knowing she isn’t ready to share too much, but wanting Lexa to understand.  “I have had some bad experiences with people I have dated in the past and…I really thought you were different, but last night was kind of…it brought up some things for me.”

Clarke sees Lexa’s face drop a little, but she continues.  “I want to be able to feel…okay about this, but it might take me a little time to…ease into it, I guess.”

“That’s okay, Clarke.  I can wait.”

Clarke pulls her head back a little in surprise at how matter-of-factly the words are spoken.  Lexa smiles at the reaction.

“Look, I was being an idiot.  Like I said, there is a lot that I need to tell you.  But I also realized that…I want this.  I want you, in whatever capacity you are comfortable with.  And I can wait.  Because, last night, once I stopped trying to get away from you, I felt…relieved.  Just to be around you.  I don’t think that I’m willing to run away from that anymore.  I’m not even sure if I could.  Honestly, it only seems to cause me more problems.  So take all the time you need.  If you just want to be friends, that’s okay.  But I’m going to be here.  I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Clarke just watches her.  Her voice gets stronger the longer she speaks, and Clarke is struck with how certain she sounds, and how her eyes are unblinking and unwavering as they return Clarke’s stare.  She isn’t sure what to say.

“Okay…”

The waitress comes back with their food and Clarke wants to continue talking but she still hasn’t recovered from her surprise, and the presence of food has reminded her of how hungry she actually is.  She feels a little awkward, but Lexa seems to read her thoughts (and the growl of her stomach).

“Eat Clarke.  We’ve got time.”

They eat in comfortable silence, both devouring their food with fervor.  Finally, Clarke leans back in the booth when she is done, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“I’m so full.  I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“Me either.  I just want to lay down and take a nap now.”  Clarke watches as Lexa relaxes back in her seat, laying her head back on the booth, closing her eyes for a moment.  She has a content smile on her face, as she releases a satisfied sigh.  Her neck is stretched out and exposed.  It looks so smooth and flows so delicately into her collar bones.

Clarke thinks about Lexa’s words.  She wants to believe them; wants to trust them.  She thinks she does.  But she doesn’t know if she is ready to tell Lexa that. 

She notices that the noise level has gone up around them.  They had come in a little early for dinner, and the place had filled up a little more since then.  Clarke had felt insulated earlier, like they were alone in their own bubble.  But now she was feeling a little crowded by all the people.  She really just wants to be alone with Lexa.

“I know you said you wanted to talk about some stuff.  Do you want to…” she hesitates, afraid of what it might mean, but pushes the thought away.  “Do you want to come back to my place?  Just so we can have a quiet place to talk.”

Lexa’s eye brows raise slightly, but she recovers.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa did not think she would be here tonight. 

She was sitting in Clarke Griffin’s apartment.  With Clarke. Alone.

She had expected to tell Clarke how she felt and part for the evening; to let Clarke think over whatever she needed to.  She expected Clarke to need more time before she felt okay with Lexa being here like this.

But here she was.

Not that anything was going to happen.  Lexa was pretty certain it wasn’t.  But just being here felt cozy.  Clarke’s apartment was so very…Clarke. 

There were a few small paintings on the wall, mostly of trees, all brightly colored.  Lexa wondered, now, if all of them had been painted by Clarke.  Other than that, there were some random shelves with movies and television box sets lined up, and a black and white poster of an old man with puffy grey hair and glasses. There was a book shelf filled to the brim in one corner, a small couch, a large comfy chair big enough for two, and a small kitchen table, that seemed to mark the separation between living room and kitchen, though it was all one big room. 

Clarke sat in the giant chair and curled her legs up, getting comfortable, while Lexa sat on the couch, at the end closest to the chair, feeling unsure of what to do with herself.  Her arms were stiff at her sides, and her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

“You can relax, Lexa.  Take your shoes, off.  Make yourself at home.  You’re making me nervous.”

Lexa exhaled at this, trying to calm down.

“Sorry…I guess I’m a little nervous.”

“Why?”  She could have sworn she saw a teasing glint in Clarke’s face, but she ignored it.

“I’m not sure.”  She reached down to pull off her shoes, so that she was in just her socks, and pulled her legs up to cross them in front of her.

“Well…what did you want to talk to me about?”

Lexa looks at her for a moment, gathering her thoughts.  “I…I haven’t been with anyone.  For a really long time.”  She doesn’t think it’s the best way to start, but it’s what comes out.

“Okay…”  Clarke waits for her to continue.

“I mean, at all…like physically, emotionally…in no way…since I was 17.”

“Oh.  Wow, like, at all?  Not even like…casually…”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“You remember how I told you that I was…difficult when I was a kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, at first…after my parents…I was just shut down.  I pushed down all this anger and emotion and just shut it off.  I focused everything on school and some random odd jobs I had tutoring and mowing lawns.  I was so numb to everything, for a few years, and I took out any anger that popped up on Anya.  Lincoln was working most nights after he graduated, and Anya was working during the day, so she was home with me a lot.  I resented her so much.  She still had her mom, and I know, now, that makes no sense, but I refused to talk about anything, and I was a teenager, so I let that fuel me.  She tried to take care of me, but I just stalked around all the time, telling everyone that I was going to graduate and move far away to college, and never come back.  And I was actually on track to do just that.  I was getting good grades, though I didn’t have any friends.  I was actually on track to graduate early and some of my teachers thought I could get a decent scholarship."

“When I was 16,, I wanted to make some real money so I could save up more, so I started working at this restaurant as a waitress.  That’s where I met Costia.  She was a year older than me and…well she hung around with a different crowd than I was used to.  We were just friends at first, but I started falling for her pretty quickly.  I had never realized I liked girls, or anyone, before then.  When I told her how I felt, she actually said she felt the same.  And then everything changed.”  Lexa can’t help the regretful sigh that slips out. 

“All of the sudden, instead of feeling nothing, I started feeling everything.  Some of it was great…but a lot of it wasn’t.  Costia was heavy into partying…it’s how she dealt with her own shit, and I was with her as much as I could be.  It started to seem like an intriguing way to deal with all the stuff that was coming up.  She just seemed so carefree and fun.  She lived for excitement and feeling everything she could, all the time.  I wanted to do everything with her.  Nothing else mattered.  I started drinking alot, taking whatever was given to me, getting high as often as I could.  At first, I actually kept up okay with school, but, pretty quickly, I started showing up late.  Skipping altogether, sometimes.  Anya tried to talks some sense into me, but I wouldn’t listen.  And she had her own shit to deal with.  I hated her so much for even trying.

“I got so lost in Costia.  I know, now, that I was trying to belong to someone; to be loved by someone; to make all the pain that was just washing over me, at that point, go away.  I was so young and stupid and in love.  But Costia, she never really cared about me like I did about her.  I was just another thing she could use to feel better.  When she stopped talking to me, I went off the deep end.  I got wasted, took Anya’s car, ended up crashing into a tree.  I was lucky to survive.  And that no one else was hurt.”

Lexa breathes, trying to keep her tears away, still avoiding Clarke’s eyes.

“I couldn’t walk for a few months.  I had spent all my money on alcohol and drugs.  I was way behind in school.  Eventually, I let Anya talk me into some therapy, which helped with the anger and grief; helped me cope a little better.  And I had to do physical therapy for a while, which was hard, but it got me into exercising and taking care of myself.  That became a pretty effective outlet for me.  Once I got my shit worked out, I was proud of myself.  Stayed focused until I could pay for community college, and then I transferred to get my degree. I never thought I would get to that point and I was terrified of going back.  I kind of promised myself that I would never let anything like that happen to me again.  All that stuff with Costia, it nearly destroyed me.  I threw away everything for her, and it was for nothing.  I have stayed away from pretty much everyone since then. ”

Lexa finally looks up at Clarke, and sees her watching intently, her blue orbs misty and wide, waiting for Lexa to continue.

“You were not something I expected Clarke.  And…the way I felt about you, right away….well it was terrifying.  It reminded me of Costia so much…and I didn’t trust myself…or you, I guess.  But….I know, now, that it’s not the same…not at all.  You are so good, and strong, and smart.  And I am not that girl anymore either.  I know who I am now, and what’s important, and you aren’t using me….I don’t think you are anyway…and…”

“I’m not.”  Lexa is surprised when she feels Clarke’s hand wrap around her own.  She sees that she has shifted her position, now sitting on the edge of her chair, leaning towards Lexa.  Her eyes are insistent, trying to get Lexa to believe her words.

“I…I know.”

They stay there for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze.

“Clarke, I didn’t tell you this so that you would feel bad for me.  I don’t want that.  I just wanted you to know why I acted the way I did.  It’s not an excuse, but…I don’t know how to do this.  This is so new for me and…” she doesn’t know how to continue her thought.  She feels her head ache and she looks down, shutting her eyes.

“I understand.  I totally get it.  Hey.”  Clarke’s fingers reach up to graze Lexa’s cheek, turning her face to look her in the eyes.  Lexa relaxes at the touch. 

“I’m glad you told me.”  Clarke leans forward and presses a warm kiss to her cheek, and Lexa has to close her eyes again at the softness of it.

“Me too.”  Her voice sounds weak now.  She is so tired, all of the sudden.  She focuses on Clarke’s finger softly smoothing over the skin on the back of her hand and the way her cheek still tingles from Clarke’s lips.

It should be awkward, Lexa thinks, but it’s not.  They just sit like that, holding hands, until Clarke reaches up and pushes a piece of hair behind Lexa’s ear.  “You know, maybe some of this …weirdness…with us.  Maybe it’s because we don’t really know where we stand.  I think, for me it is, anyway.”

Lexa tries not to read too much into what she thinks Clarke is saying.  “Okay.  So…what does that mean?”

“Well…maybe we could just agree on some things?”

“Like what?”

Clarke looks sheepish all of the sudden.  “Like…I don’t know…we have both already said we aren’t interested in anyone else, so…that’s already a given…”

Lexa smiles, “sure, okay.  So we are exclusive…what?  Friends?”

“Mmm, well I have other friends, Lexa.  Special friends?”

Lexa laughs.  “I don’t know how I feel about that term.”

“Well….we could say…dating?  If that’s something you would be interested in?”

“Well, yeah!”  Lexa tries to pull back on her over excited response, clearing her throat.  “I mean, if you are.  That would be acceptable.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, I think I would be okay with that.”  Clarke is smiling at her, and Lexa is getting a little caught up in the look in her eyes, their hands still clasped together.

She’s not sure how long they sit there, but when she finally glances at the clock, she realizes that it’s already almost 11.

“Wow, I didn’t realize it was so late.  I should probably go home.  I have to be at work early tomorrow.  Anya is probably wondering where I am.”

“Oh, right.  Um…”  Clarke seems uncertain.  “Its kind of late…You could crash here if you want.” 

Lexa hesitates.  It’s not like she doesn’t want to but…

“No, I should really go home.  That sounds kind of,” she weighs her words and opts for honesty, “dangerous.  Plus, all my work clothes are at home anyway.”

Clarke seems to consider this, but shakes her head.   “You look pretty tired…I don’t like the idea of you driving like this.”

Lexa’s stomach flutters at her concern.  “I’ll be fine, Clarke.  I live less than 5 minutes away.”

“Okay, fine.”  She looks genuinely disappointed, and Lexa has to talk herself out of going back on her decision to leave.

She stands up, and Clarke stands with her, not letting go of her hands.  Lexa feels almost silly as their hands lace together for the short walk to Clarke’s front door. 

She turns to face Clarke, about to say goodbye, when she suddenly finds Clarke’s mouth on her own.

It is so sudden, it takes her a second to really understand what is happening, but she relaxes into the contact eventually, as Clarke pulls Lexa’s lower lip into her mouth and softly squeezes it between her own.  It is a gentle kiss and Lexa can barely comprehend how soft and warm Clarke’s lips are, as they move against her own, before Clarke is pulling back. 

Lexa finds herself still leaned slightly forward, eyes closed, lips puckered slightly, trying to work out if it actually happened.  When she finally opens her eyes, she sees Clarke has taken a step back and is smiling sweetly up at her, her cheeks a wonderful pink color.

“Goodnight, Lexa.”

“Goodnight, Clarke.” 

She drives home in a daze and when she sleeps, she dreams of glowing blue trees and soft pink lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos, again! I like hearing what you guys think and I'm glad you're enjoying it.


	12. 3 weeks of waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks of moments leading up to the Date. There may or may not be a little smut...and so much fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to wait...I really did...

Clarke sits in one of giant comfy chairs in a café across the street from the Drop Ship.  She is waiting for Octavia to meet her for coffee, but is immensely enjoying her solitude at the moment.  She seems to get a strange enjoyment out of lounging in any coffee shop that is not the one she is employed at, taking satisfaction in not having to do any work in such a space.  It is relatively quiet, she thinks, for a Friday afternoon, perfect for her plans to read while she waits.

However, rather than reading the book that had been resting in her hands for the better part of an hour, she has been lost in thought, staring at her coffee cup sitting on the table in front of her.  She has been replaying the last few weeks over in her head, continuously, and she had thought it would get old by now.

It hadn’t.

It had been almost 3 weeks since their talk. 

Three weeks since she had been dating Lexa. 

Yet, no _date_ had actually taken place yet.

Lexa’s class and work schedule made it difficult to make any evening plans, and Clarke’s work schedule had also been abnormally busy.  She had agreed to pick up some extra shifts, especially during the weekends, in exchange for some time off for the weekend of the big move.

But that time off had finally arrived.  Raven would be here in two days’ time, and Clarke planned to spend most of Saturday finishing up her packing.

It was today though…Friday…that she had been most anticipating.  It was the day that she would finally get the ‘date’ part of dating Lexa.   

_Is it even considered ‘dating’ if you don’t go on dates?_

Clarke wasn’t too concerned with the semantics.  Actually, it had been kind of nice.

 _Better than nice.  Pretty amazing, actually._  

Despite the lack of any real dates, she had actually been able to spend quite a bit of time with Lexa. 

They had each made an effort to work some time into the week days to see each other.  Clarke was enjoying it immensely.

Their dinner and the discussion that followed, three weeks prior, had shifted Clarke’s perspective.  Clarke could understand where Lexa was coming from…actually, she could understand it a lot better than she expected to.  But aside from some of their shared experiences, the shift had a lot to do with Lexa’s…well…her unflinching willingness to admit what she wanted.

That she wanted Clarke.

It was almost overwhelming…but not quite.

It made Clarke feel safe.  Safer that she had felt around anyone in a long time.  She knew that Lexa wasn’t going anywhere.  She had actually gotten to see how much Lexa wanted to be around her almost every day since then. 

Slowly, they had developed a level of comfort that Clarke hadn't been expecting. 

It started on a Monday, the morning after it became “official”…

_Clarke had peeled herself from her bed with great effort and, somehow, swung by the café and made it to the gym, with time to spare.  She stood leaning against the wall next to the front door, four drinks filling the tray in her hands.  Her head leaned back against the wall, and she quietly considered that she may have lost her mind for being up so early.  The thought leapt immediately out of her head when she saw a familiar figure approaching._

_Lexa’s eyes widened and her steps slowed when she saw Clarke.  Her sleepy face was shocked, and then brightened instantly.  The reaction forced a small giggle out of Clarke’s throat._

_“Clarke?  What…what are you doing here?”_

_Clarke smiled shyly.  She had just seen Lexa 8 hours earlier, but she couldn’t help how nice it felt to be in her presence again, so quickly._

_“I felt a little bad for keeping you out so late, so I thought I’d get you a little pick-me-up before work.”  She tried to keep the blush off her cheeks, but she was suddenly nervous that Lexa would think she was a creep…_

_Her fear, it turned out, was unfounded._

_Somehow, Lexa was standing only a foot away now, and Clarke could see that her eyes were still a little puffy from sleep, though her smile was brilliant.  Clarke melted a little at the sincerity of it._

_Lexa’s hair was in a messy braid, clearly thrown together quickly, and Clarke reached up to brush a stray curl from Lexa’s face before she could stop herself.  Lexa’s smile grew impossibly wider at the action.  As she looked down, Clarke watched a beautiful blush cover her cheeks._

_Lexa seemed surprised when she noticed the drinks in Clarke’s hands._

_“Clarke, am I missing something?  Why do you have four drinks?”_

_Clarke was a little embarrassed, once again, at her eagerness to please, so she wasn’t surprised that her voice was a little softer when she answered._

_“Oh…I…wasn’t sure what you liked…so I got some options.”  She pointed to each one as she listed them.  “Coffee, latte, green tea, juice.  I figured you could give the rest to others if they want them.”  She shrugged, and gently passed the tray to Lexa, trying to convey that it was no big deal with her facial expression._

_She couldn’t help but fidget uncomfortably as Lexa continued to watch her knowingly, smirk in place._

_“You didn’t have to do that Clarke.”  She smiled fondly and Clarke decided she would do the same thing every day, until the end of time, if it meant seeing that look on Lexa’s face._

_“I know, but I wanted to.”_

_Lexa tilted her head to the side. “You’re cute.”_

_Lexa was standing close now, only the distance of the drink carrier between them.  Clarke was baffled at how comfortable it all felt.  The night before seemed to have made each of them a little more at ease with small, sweet displays of affection._

I feel like I’m fucking 16. _She tried to scoff at herself, but she could only grin like an idiot._

_Finally, Lexa stepped back a little, still staring at Clarke with soft eyes.  “I should probably get in there.”_

_Clarke nods and is a little shocked when Lexa holds the tray to the side and is suddenly in her space again, their bodies almost touching.  Lexa brings her lips slowly to the side of Clarke’s face and places a slow, gentle kiss on her cheek, before pushing in a little further and whispering in Clarke’s ear.  Clarke shivers when she feels the warmth of Lexa’s breath tickle her neck._

_“Thank you for the drinks.”_

_And, just like that, she is gone, walking away towards the doors.  Clarke sees her look over her shoulder and chuckle sweetly before reaching for the door handle._

_“Wait! Um…which one are you going to drink?  So I know, uh…for the future.”_

_Lexa’s cheek tweaks up again.  “The coffee.  Black.”  She looks down bashfully, and enters the gym._

Clarke thinks fondly of that first morning.  Her head had still been reeling from all that Lexa had told her and she wanted to stay cool, and let things progress slowly.  But she couldn’t contain herself.  She felt lighter and so ridiculously happy, to actually have something real with Lexa.  It wasn’t just a feeling that she tortured herself over, anymore.  She didn’t have to wonder where they stood, or what Lexa was feeling; why Lexa had done the things she had done. 

She knew now, and she just had to do something to prove it was real.  To herself and to Lexa.

It grew from there.  They texted greetings and little hellos to each other during the day, and made plans for lunch that Wednesday

They panned to meet at a diner next door to the gym, after Lexa left work, but before she had to go to class…

 

_Clarke is sitting at a table near the door and Lexa is about 20 minutes late.  It wasn’t unexpected.  She had even texted Clarke what to order for her already, knowing she would be limited for time._

_When Clarke finally sees her stride through the door, she smiles, but becomes worried immediately.  Lexa’s looks weak and tired, as she slumps into the chair across from Clarke.  She seems frazzled and sluggish, sending Clarke a tight lipped smile, though her eyes stay soft.  Her jaw is rigid and the few words she speaks are shaky and said with obvious effort._

_“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.  Today has been…annoying.”_

_Clarke is unprepared for the concern she feels.  It seems to punch her in her chest.  She actually feels a lump in her throat at how run down Lexa looks, but she doesn’t have much time to do anything about it._

_Clarke watches in amazement as Lexa practically inhales the sandwich that she finds in front of her in less than 5 minutes, and relaxes back in her chair to sip her water._

_And it is like a cloud has been lifted._

_“Um…were you hungry?”_

_Lexa lets a lazy smile cover her face, setting her water glass down.  Her eyes are still tired, but her demeanor has changed entirely._

_“Yeah, I guess I was.  It’s been kind of a crazy morning.  I really thought I was going to pass out there for a minute.  But I feel much better now.”  She leans forward on the table, her hands sitting lightly on top of one another.  “And now I’m with you, which doesn’t hurt either.”_

_Clarke smiles, feeling uncontrollable butterflies in her stomach from the comment but she is still shaken up by Lexa’s appearance when she arrived. “Lexa, you shouldn’t let yourself get that hungry.  I don’t think it’s good for you.  You looked…not great.  You have to eat.  Its not safe to be doing what you do without sustenance!”  Clarke feels a little like she is nagging – thinks that maybe it’s a bit early in their relationship for it - but she is frustrated at her concern, and is not sure how else to deal with it._

_Lexa maintains her smile and leans an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand.  She gives Clarke a questioning look.  “Are you worried about me?”_

_Her look is teasing and Clarke is still reeling from how quickly the girl’s attitude has changed from exhausted and pissed off to flirty and relaxed…in 5 minutes flat._

Note to self: Lexa without food is not good. 

Second note to self: make sure Lexa eats regularly.

_Clarke only lets the slightest grin touch her mouth.  “I can’t have you passing out before I get my date.”_

_Lexa’s smirk breaks into a shy smile.  “That would be quite terrible, I must admit.”_

_Clarke just raises her eyebrows, not letting her grin get any wider. “Exactly.”_

_“Well…speaking of dates…maybe we could try one out…this weekend?”  She looks so hopeful, that Clarke’s heart breaks a little that she has to disappoint her._

_“Unfortunately, I can’t, this weekend…or next weekend.  Remember, I had to pick up those shifts?  Raven would kill me if I had to work on moving weekend.  I do happen to have that Friday before Raven gets here free though…what about then?”_

_She watches Lexa’s face fall and expects her to try to cover her disappointment, but her playful mood continues.  She frowns and lets her bottom lip stick out in an adorably dramatic pout._

_“That’s not for threeee weeeeks!  Its so far away!”  Her voice is slightly whiny and Clarke rolls her eyes, barely able to contain her laughter at this adorable, playful Lexa.  She has to stop herself from jumping across the table and taking that pouty lip into her mouth._

That could be a slippery slope… _she stops her mind from taking her to lustful places._

_Instead, she just leans a little over the table, quirking her mouth to the side, sending an apology with her eyes, playing along._

_“But think of all the time we’ll have to plan it…waiting will make it fun!”  She lets Lexa sit with the suggestive double meaning for a moment, enjoying the slight rise in her eyebrows and the pink tinge on her cheeks.  She continues._

_“Plus, it will be the last time I will be living alone…” Her face turns bright red, when she realizes what she has implied.  Suggestiveness is one thing, but she still gets nervous speaking so openly about sex with Lexa.  “Not that…I mean.  That doesn’t really mean anything for the date…necessarily…just, happens to be a fact.  That is true…and…”_

_“Clarke.”  Lexa is grinning, her face slightly pink.   She reaches across the table and covers Clarke’s hand with her own.  She is relieved when Lexa skips over the insinuating statement. “I would love to go on a date with you…even if I have to wait considerably longer than I would like.  But I will be planning it.  It’s my only stipulation.”_

 

The next two and a half weeks had been drawn out…but not _necessarily_ in a bad way.

_In an excruciatingly, teasingly, foreplay-ish kind of way._

Clarke breathes deeply for a moment, calming herself.

It was more of a challenge than she had been expecting to see the girl for very long periods of time.  But they had gotten into a routine.  Clarke would bring Lexa coffee before work at the gym on Mondays and use it as an opportunity to chat with her a little before she had to meet her client.  It also gave Clarke an excuse to work out.  They would have lunch on Wednesdays, and Lexa would swing by Clarke’s cafe on Thursdays, when she got out of class.    

Clarke continuously looked forward to all of those brief chunks of time with Lexa during the week.  They were full of easy conversation, and light, flirty banter...moments were filled with light touches; brief electricity at the grazing of skin; a guiding hand on the small of a back.  It was nice to just get to spend some time together; to talk about their days and get to know each other little by little.

Clarke’s day was always brighter when she got to see Lexa.  

And in the in-between moments, when they saw each other for seconds at a time, at the gym or when Lexa would swing by the café unannounced, there was a certain domesticity about their interactions. 

Clarke would bring Lexa snacks; a banana, a granola bar, a bag of almonds.  Always observing how her energy was; whether she looked tired.  She would sometimes bring her a midday coffee, when she knew she had class or a particularly long study session ahead of her.

Lexa had started having short (and awful) jokes ready when she briefly swung by the café, knowing that it would make Clarke laugh immediately if she was having a bad shift.

_What do you call a cow with no legs?  Ground beef._

_What does the fish say when it swims into a wall?  Dam._

_What do you call a woman with one leg shorter than the other?  Ilene._

Clarke was always left smiling at the silly quips.

And Lexa never once wavered in her resolve to be patient with Clarke.  She hadn’t pulled away.  She hadn’t pushed too hard.  She hadn’t freaked out. She had been sweet and thoughtful; playful and teasing; honest and open. She had been exactly what Clarke had thought she was from the beginning.

Clarke wanted to maintain some distance.  She really did.  But any resolve she had dissipated when she started to see Lexa every day, and began to understand how amazing she actually was; how interesting; how wonderfully intense; how steady; how playful; how serious; how…everything. 

Every time she learned something new about her, her affection grew, until she could barely remember that she had reservations at all.

Clarke particularly loved watching her at the gym and with clients, or with her coworkers, and then seeing how different Lexa was with her.  Her face always softened; her body relaxed.  Her eyes were always shining when she looked at Clarke.

They both did well at maintaining boundaries, for the most part.

They seemed to have an unspoken rule that any physical affection, more than hand holding or light touching, was something that would come with the date.  Their time constraints made it easy to stick to. 

Clarke was glad for it…most of the time.

Even thinking about kissing Lexa had the risk of pulling her down a lusty rabbit hole that would make going slow much more difficult. And during all of those chunks of time they spent with each other, the ‘rule’ seemed to be reasonably easy to follow.  It was always day time, they were never really completely alone, and they usually had somewhere they needed to be.  It worked.

It all became much hazier, however, when they were at the gym separately.  If Lexa was working, it was fine.  If they were chatting or Clarke was dropping off a snack or coffee, it was bearable.

But, for some reason, when they were across the room from each other, working out separately…the sexual tension became a little…thicker.  A little less easy to ignore.

The distance seemed to make them each a little too comfortable in letting their desire wash over them. 

Clarke felt bolder when she let her eyes trace over Lexa’s ass.

Lexa seemed to be undeterred from her glances at Clarke’s legs, even when she was caught staring.

They both became less cautious in letting their gazes linger a little longer; licking lips; holding eye contact; letting glances wander and explore.

Clarke blames the sweatiness and labored breathing; the exercise lowering their defenses. 

_Not to mention the fact that Lexa insists on working out in goddamn spandex shorts and a sports bra._

They had managed, though, to stay away from each other.  Gazes were held, but they were always eventually broken, with a blush.  One of them always removed themselves, with an eye roll or a grin.

It all seemed harmless…the distance kept them safe from breaking…

…until yesterday…

 

_Clarke had decided to take a yoga class, and was feeling the need for a little cool down, so she was heading to the track to walk a few laps before going home.  When she reached the top, she was surprised to see Lexa._

_It looked like she had just finished running, likely a long distance.  Her breathing was labored as she walked and all of her skin was glistening.  She was just rounding the curve in the track and Clarke saw that her eyes were closed, as she pulled her hands over her head to breathe a little deeper._

_Clarke couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering.  It had been entirely too long since she had been able to properly touch Lexa and the thought of doing so on their date tomorrow was slowly driving Clarke insane._

A little perving can’t hurt…we are 'dating', after all...

_Lexa’s neck is glistening with perspiration and Clarke can see her pulse beating under the skin, even from here.  The muscles of her arm are relaxed, but their position show off the curve of her delicate, but strong, biceps, flinching mildly as she adjusts her hands on her head._

_Lexa’s breasts heave, up and down, and Clarke’s jaw literally drops when she realizes that she can see the faint outline of Lexa’s nipples through her sports bra._

Shit. Shit. Shit.

_Her eyes freeze for a moment, knowing she should stop…knowing that she was playing a dangerous game with herself…but she can’t seem to tear her eyes away._

_Her eyes are hungry now, searching for more.  Slowly, they trail down to Lexa’s stomach, and she feels her entire body flush with warmth.  Lexa’s abs are just…beautiful.  She can see the muscles under her smooth skin, flexing with each step, shining from the sweat that was still dripping._

_Suddenly, the three long weeks of pent up longing, that she had been able to ignore so well, flooded her imagination._

_She imagined the same smooth, flat, muscular surface, in another setting; one that Clarke hoped to be at some point in her future._

_In her mind, the skin was sweaty for a different reason.  Clarke could imagine running her tongue along the grooves in Lexa’s skin; dipping it into her perfect belly button; pressing her hand against the flat, smooth surface, feeling Lexa trembling and twitching in pleasure at the things Clarke would do to her._

_Finally, after god knows how long, Clarke is pulled from her increasingly graphic fantasy when she realizes that Lexa has stopped moving.  She finds her green eyes, and she sees that they are almost black.  Her pupils are blown wide, and she is biting her bottom lip.  Hard.  There is no sexy smirk on Lexa’s face, as there usually is when Clarke is caught.  There is only lust._

_Clarke blushes and turns to remove herself, like so many times before, with a little more effort than usual.  And a little more haste._

_She makes it to the locker room, and breathes for a moment._

I could use a shower (a cold one). 

_Just as she pulls her shirt off over her head, she hears the door creak open.  Assuming it is another gym patron, she pays it no mind, until she hears the door click._

Did someone just lock the door?

_She looks up and sees Lexa’s stoic, beautiful face.  Her back facing the door, and her finger tips pressed into it, as if to anchor herself to a stable surface._

_Her eyes seem surprised to have found Clarke in only her bra, and Clarke watches enlarged pupils trail over her exposed skin.  She would be embarrassed if she wasn’t distracted by Lexa’s own display of flesh at a much shorter distance than before.  There are droplets of sweat sitting just between Lexa’s breasts and Clarke can think of nothing but licking them off before they drip down, out of reach._

This is bad.  We shouldn’t be here.  One more day until the date.  Oh god…

_Her heart begins to slam inside her chest as she watches Lexa walk briskly forward and feels herself pressed against the lockers in an instant, gasping at the feel of the cold metal on her back.  The noise is swallowed by Lexa’s mouth against her own._

_The kiss is sloppy and needy, and their tongues are writhing against each other instantly, all of their pent up lust exploding in one moment._

_One of Lexa’s forearms is against the locker and the other hand is gripping Clarke’s neck, holding their mouths together firmly.  Clarke has pressed her palms flat against either side of the gentle curve in Lexa’s back, relishing as she arches toward Clarke.  She pulls her forward with suddenly grasping fingers, feeling a fire rip through her body at the feel of their bellies pressed against each other, still slippery with sweat._

_They kiss until they are gasping for breath, and pull apart slightly for air.  Clarke is about to dive back in when their heads shoot sideways at the_ thunk _of someone trying to enter the locked door.  Neither moves apart though, when the person seems to give up and walk away._

_Clarke finds her hands sliding down to grip at Lexa’s hips, noticing that Lexa’s eyes are closed, as she presses her forehead against Clarke’s._

_“You have got to stop looking at me like that when I’m at work.”  Clarke grins and opens her eyes to see Lexa looking at her, pleading.  “It makes it very difficult to…wait.”  Her eyes close again on the last word._

_Clarke thinks that Lexa does not look, at all, like she even wants to wait any more._

_“You are not on the clock.”  She sees Lexa open her eyes, for the sole purpose of rolling them.  Clarke tries to look innocent.  “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be working out in,” she glances down, running her thumb lightly over Lexa’s exposed hip bone until it hits the band of her tiny shorts, “these.”_

_Lexa hips careen forward at the touch, and Clarke tries to stifle a moan as one of Lexa’s thighs begins to make its way between her own._

_“Lexa…” it is meant to be a warning, but Clarke thinks it sounds a little like a plea, and she doesn’t know how she wants the Lexa to take it._

I don’t give a fuck at this point.  Let her have me.

_She thinks it is equally likely that Lexa will exert some self-control and leave her here, as it is that Lexa will press into her further and take them both down._

_Luckily (or not…) Lexa releases any hold she has on herself and crashes her lips against Clarke’s again, causing Clarkes head to slam lightly against the locker._

_Clarke cannot stop a loud moan from escaping her this time._

_Lexa presses fully against her, their breasts pressing together. Clarke’s skin is burning everywhere that it meets Lexa’s; lips, stomach, thighs…._

Fucking thighs!

_Lexa is pressing her thigh firmly between Clarke’s now, and Clarke is so wet, she is certain that Lexa can feel her through her shorts.  It is made all the more intoxicating when she slides her own thigh up, to meet the apex of Lexa’s legs, feeling damp heat against her skin.  Lexa grinds down into her immediately._

_Lexa runs a hand down to grasp at Clarkes breast, grazing her nipple through the cloth of her bra with a thumb, before palming it fully.  She begins to grind her thigh rhythmically against Clarke’s center and rut down against Clarke simultaneously._

_Clarke knows it will take almost no time for her to come.  She has been on the verge since her fantasy on the track.  Really, since that night on the jungle gym.  She is gasping furiously into messy, wet, warm kisses now, trying to keep herself from bursting into flames at the feel of Lexa’s thigh pushing against her so insistently and deliciously, rubbing against her clit on almost every thrust now, shifting everything in Clarke's soul with every movement._

_When Lexa’s mouth sucks against her neck, she slams her head back against the locker, and her hands tangle into Lexa’s hair, gripping under the formerly pulled back locks, until her braid is mostly nonexistent._

_“Lexa…oh, fuck!”_

_I_ _t is a quiet, involuntary groan, but she knows it reaches Lexa's ears._

_Clarke hears what can only be described as a growl rip through Lexa’s throat and her hips fumble slightly with a jolt against Clarke’s thigh.  She seems to redouble her pace, then, unable to keep her mouth on Clarke’s neck, bringing it up to her ear instead._

_“Clarke…god you’re so fucking…ugh.”_

_The sound of her name on Lexa’s tongue, the feel of her breath in Clarke’s ear, and the insistent pressure on her clit is all too much for Clarke.  She crashes over the edge with a deep throaty grunt.  She feels wet warmth settling over her, everywhere, starting between her legs and spreading through her fingers and toes, until her head is fuzzy and her ears tingle._

_Lexa is still writhing, carrying Clarke through insistent aftershocks as she does.  When Clarke draws out Lexa’s name in a long moan, feeling as if her entire body is slowly slipping into warm water, Lexa freezes, trembles violently everywhere, and comes with quiet, jagged breaths._

_Clarke can feel her soft lips wide open against her neck, and the warm heat of heavy breath in her ear._

_They slump into each other.  Clarke thinks they would both fall to the floor if they were not holding each other so tightly.  They each shift slightly, Lexa nuzzling further into Clarke’s neck, Clarke bringing her hands down to wrap fingers in the soft brown curls that have escaped Lexa’s braid._

_It all seems so tender after such a primal moment.  Clarke's heart swells when she feels Lexa's nose nuzzle further at her skin._

_When their breaths calm and Clarke’s heart isn’t pounding quite as hard in her chest, she speaks._

_“Well, that was…unexpected…”  She smirks as she shifts to look into Lexa’s eyes.  They are gentle and questioning._

_“Yeah…are…was that okay?  I mean, I know we were both trying to…you know…go slow…”_

_Clarke can’t help but giggle at how adorably nervous Lexa sounds.  “It was definitely okay…honestly…I feel like I may have exploded had I waited any longer…”_

_She immensely enjoys the smile this puts on Lexa’s face…_

_Reluctantly they pull themselves apart and Clarke watches as Lexa pulls out her half-existent braid, still a little stunned as Lexa’s hair cascades over her shoulder.  It seems almost unreal that Lexa has such an effect on her, and she almost wants to pull her back in for round two._

_Lexa seems to read her thoughts, and gives her an aroused, but warning, look.  “I think I should go…I need to get to work soon.”_

_Clarke just nods, afraid to speak, knowing that she might ask her to stay., and sin again.  Over and over._

_Instead, she just smiles gently._

_“Tomorrow.”  Lexa grins, holding Clarke’s gaze through heavy lids, before she turns and exits the locker room, leaving Clarke sighing in contentment for a few moments, before finally heading to the shower._

 

Clarke snaps herself out of the memory.  She realizes she is throbbing uncomfortably and her fingers have been grazing up and down the skin of her neck unconsciously.  She is much more turned on in a public setting than she is comfortable with, and it would likely be obvious to anyone who may look her way.  Luckily, as she glances around, she doesn’t think she has been noticed.

She feels like she has been turned on since the second Lexa left her there in the locker room. 

She has no regrets at all.  Which is a little surprising.  The only thing she wishes she could change is how she cant seem to stop thinking about it every 15 minutes.  She can distract herself sometimes, ut every time she replays the memory, she is back where she started: hot and bothered and worried about how badly she _needs_ Lexa.

Because it feels like need.  The more time she spends with her; the more comfortable she becomes in her presence; the more she watches the way she moves; listens to her talk; listens to Lexa's voice say Clarke's name….The more she wants to touch her; to feel her.

And, rather than the incident in the locker room releasing her from that need, it has only intensified it.  Lexa seems to be under her skin; in her bones.  She craves her. 

She is roughly brought out of her thoughts by the weight of a body dropping into her lap, and arms squeezing around her shoulders.

“Hey Roomie!”  Clarke groans at her weight and scrunches her face when Octavia smashes a kiss to her cheek.  The pain of it jolts her out of her thoughts.

_Thankfully..._

“Hey O.”  She manages to grunt out the greeting, fearing that Octavia will be able to tell how aroused she was a moment earlier.

Clarke welcomes the distraction brought on by the nickname, though.  She was still adjusting to her surprise that Octavia was going to live with her and Raven.

She met Octavia for a drink a few days after Raven left, and was informed of the plan.  Apparently, Raven had wooed her with the promise of home-cooked meals once a week and reduced rent if she took the smallest bedroom.

_Meals cooked by Raven, of course.  No one wants to eat my cooking._

“Sorry I’m late…I got a little…caught up this morning.”  Octavia is not subtle about her eye brows raising suggestively, indicating that she was doing something dirty with Lincoln.

“Ugh…” Clarke pushes the girl off of her lap.  “Weren’t you supposed to have school this morning or something?”

Octavia just laughs at Clarke’s reaction, landing spryly on her feet, and making her way into the chair next to Clarke’s.  “The JV practice was cancelled for some scheduling reason or something.  I was happy to skip it.  I love those little shitheads, but I need a break.”

Clarke chuckles.  It is still hilarious to her that Octavia is a coach.

“So you and Lincoln are still good, then, I take it?” 

Clarke smiles when she watches Octavia sigh. 

_She looks just like a lovelorn Disney princess, thinking about her prince._

“We really are.  God, I can’t even…Clarke, the man is a sex god, I swear.  His mouth is so-“

“Okay!  I get the picture.  You can save the details for your other ‘Roomie’…she lives for that shit.”  She holds her hands up in defeat, before softening.  “I’m happy for you O.  Really.”

Octavia smiles brightly.  “Thanks Griff!  Hey, speaking of sex…isn’t your date with Lexa tonight?”

“Oh, yeah…I guess it is.”  She ignores the sex comment, and tries to hide the fact that she has thought of nothing else but her date tonight for the past 3 weeks.

Octavia looks unconvinced.  “Right…you guess? You are not fooling anyone, Griff.”

She smirks, knowing she would be caught in her lie. “Shut up.”

“Are you nervous?”

Clarke considers lying, but knows it would be useless.  “Definitely.  And I don’t know why!  It’s not like I haven’t hung out with her like 100 times over these last few weeks, or that we haven’t kissed, or that I don’t know if she likes me."... _or fucked in a semi-public locker room..._

“Have you guys bumped uglies yet?”

Clarke scoffs a little.  “You know I hate that term.  I have always hated it.” She tries to avoid answering, but she can feel her blush giving her away.

“Oh my god!  You have!  You got some!  And before the first date.  You hussy!”  Octavia laughs and Clarke can’t help but smile at her friend’s excitement for her. “How was it?”

Clarke just sighs, turning red again ( _certainly, like an idiot)._

The look on her face seems to tell Octavia everything she needs to know and she just shakes her head and laughs lightly.  “You’ve got it so bad, Griff.”

Clarke just sighs and shrugs in blissful defeat.  “Yeah…I guess I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops!
> 
> Next time...DATE!


	13. Date night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date...and all that entails...lots of fluff...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is long. I loved writing this...maybe too much...

Lexa stands in the parking lot, staring up at the building in front of her.  She is thankful for leaving early now.  She had a feeling she would need some ‘freak out’ time.

_This is a real date._

The thought is still a little stunning.

It is an honest-to-god, fully planned, set-aside evening to spend time with Clarke in a very specific way…

She couldn’t help trying to figure out what that _way_ was…

Clarke had been the axis on which her last three weeks had rotated.  She had continued her regularly scheduled programming, of course.  Most of her time was occupied as it normally was: with work, class, papers, studying, working out, talking to Anya, and discussing training programs with Lincoln…all the usual activities.

But Clarke seemed to be interspersed throughout, and it changed the color of it all.  The tint was brighter.  The space between moments was sweeter.  Her thoughts floated away, at times, instead of constantly being weighed down by plans and obligations.

The fact that Clarke seemed to fit so seamlessly into her routine should have surprised her.  It was, after all, a fairly rigid one.  But there was Clarke, showing up with coffee just to talk to her for 10 minutes.  Bringing her snacks because she had already experienced Lexa’s inability to feed herself regularly.  Being able to tell when she was busy, and when she wasn’t, never keeping Lexa from school or work, but always giving her this boundless, joyous energy that seemed to make it a little easier to do all the things she needed to do.

Lexa was afraid.

Afraid that she was getting used to the simmering in her chest that she felt anytime she knew she would see Clarke. Afraid of how easy it was to be around her.  Afraid of how Clarke had become the only thing she thought of in her free time.

Then there was, of course, the sex. 

It had only happened once, seemingly forcing itself on both of them.  It burst out of their mutual desire like a rabid beast.  She had tried to slow it, but it was like standing in the ocean, trying to stop a wave with her body.  It seemed to crush her and then pick her up and carry her further into the blue. 

Lexa would happily drown there.

She knew that it had been fumbling and desperate.  Dry humping in a public locker room wasn’t anyone’s definition of romantic.  But, to Lexa, it was so much more.  Whatever happened there, between them, felt like an expression of something that had been just below the surface for weeks now. 

It was a strangled cry of her body, trying to tell Clarke…trying to tell herself…that that force between them felt like…everything.  Everything she thought about, everything she dreamed about…just everything. 

It felt like her body needed to communicate with the girl who had breathed life into a strict routine; who had given her a reason to not push herself to the point of collapsing; who tenderly caressed Lexa’s hair after letting her unashamedly come against her in a feral haze.

And even with how much it meant to Lexa…the sex still felt like a just product of something else, entirely; something much bigger.  It was an explosion that only occurred because of a reaction between other forces at work.  It was an expression of something that Lexa felt so deeply within her being that she had no other way to get it out.

This thought is the closest she has come to understanding the _way_ that she wanted to be with Clarke.  To understanding the _way_ she wanted the date to go.

It was…like the way that Lincoln, the ever focused brother who never took a day off from Grounders, walked out, mid-shift last week, hand in hand with Octavia, to go watch a high school JV soccer game.

It was…like the way that Any’s face had been free of concern or anger or darkness when she laughed with Raven that night.  Lexa hadn’t see her laugh like that since they were kids.  She could never tell Anya that she recognized her happiness…she would only get a scowl in return…but she saw it, briefly, clear as day.

It was in the way her father used to spend time with her mother every Saturday night.  Lexa remembers her mother teasing him for being so insistent that they always maintain their date night, rolling her eyes, and reminding him of other responsibilities.  They never had much and they worked hard for what they had.  They were tired often.  But he would still buy her flowers, and she would scoff at how much they were (before smiling).  He would still read her poetry and she would tease him (before blushing).  He was never deterred; never let his adoration dim.  And Lexa saw the way she was on Sunday mornings.  And the way she was when it was just the three of them in the house, without pressing plans or visiting friends.  She was lighter…less concerned with bills or her upcoming work week or the small annoyances of everyday life.   Her mother was always calmed by her father; he was her soft spot; her peace; her weakness.

Lexa is suddenly flooded with images of her father…sneaking up behind her mother, wrapping his arms around her, and seeing her whole body relax; seeing her eyes close; watching the frown lines disappear from her face; seeing her settle into his presence…her home.  She can feel a bittersweet burn in her chest forming.  She holds back the surprising tears in her eyes; swallows them. 

She had forgotten the specifics of their love.  Forgotten how much it meant to her when she was younger, to see them in those moments…how much she thought about it when she was older and dove into Costia (which ended up being like the shallow end of a pool).  She tried to find anything that felt like what she thought the love between them was like; what their love for _her_ was like. 

That’s always what she had wanted back then…but she had come to believe it was a rare thing.  It may have existed for them, but not for Lexa.  Not for most people.

But Clarke…she was starting to rekindle some of the hope that Lexa had thought was long gone.

It was fucking terrifying.

But she was her father’s daughter.

Lexa got her temper from her mother.  She got her skin, and her hair…her stubbornness…all of it from the woman she can usually only remember now with the aid of a few photographs, and some hazy memories.

But aside from her eyes, she always wondered what she got from her father.  He was a gentle man.  It was an all-consuming gentleness.  He was large and muscular, but soft and warm; bearded, funny, poetic and light-hearted.  She had loved him so much.  He always made her laugh.  Encouraged her.  Hugged her.  She sometimes wished she could be more like him…wished she could have that sort of gentleness about her.  She felt more like her mother; driven, analytical, always planning, always concerned.  

She had been thinking about him a lot lately.  Coming to recognize things in herself that she had never noticed before.  Some deep, hidden, unbridled, almost ferocious…softness…that’s the only way she could think to describe it.   

Clarke seems to bring this feeling out in Lexa, and it is so odd.

She had let it carry her away.  She doesn’t feel like she has sacrificed anything, like she was afraid she would.  It doesn’t feel like she has put more strain on herself or her obligations. 

It feels like everything is more real now.  That all of her plans and goals have life.  She had been letting herself be swallowed up, by this idea of success; this idea of being on her own and okay.  Now she thinks maybe she was missing the point.  Maybe the point was something she never thought was possible…not in any sustainable way.

Happiness.  Just happiness.

She did everything she could to see Clarke smile.  She couldn’t stop herself from telling Clarke that she was beautiful every time the opportunity presented itself.  She still watched Clarke’s brow furrow in thought and exhaustion (particularly when Clarke was at work) but she made it her mission to put the her beautiful smile back in place.  She had been proud that she had actually gotten pretty good at it.

When she writhed and panted against Clarke in the locker room; when she came harder than she thought possible…it felt like her body was rewarding her for finally…getting it.  She finally understood something about what was important and what was not; about what was possible; about the gentleness within her that had never had anywhere to go, until now. 

She wanted to give all of it to Clarke.

 _Shit._   _Its 7._

She had almost thought herself into being late.

She chuckles _,_ her thoughts bringing to mind a particular blonde, who would do just that _._

_Spending too much time with Clarke._

_No such thing._

She smiles as she enters the building.

 

When she reaches Clarke’s door, Lexa raises her fist to knock, but hesitates when she sees her hand shaking.  She puts her arms down for a moment, squeezing her fist tightly and then extending her fingers wide, before taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.

_Why are you so nervous?  Just…get it together._

She raises her hand again and softly knocks three times on the door, before pulling both of her hands behind her back, and exhaling deeply once again.

She hears some fumbling and when the door opens seconds later, Lexa feels her heart expand rapidly in her chest.  The smile on her face is the only way to release the pressure and it continues to grow every second, as she stares at the girl in front of her. 

Clarke’s smile is radiant.  Her blonde hair is in curls that frame her flushed pink cheeks perfectly, and her eye liner, which Lexa has never seen her wear before, is causing her eyes to seem bluer than usual.  The kind of blue she could drown in.

Lexa is having trouble looking anywhere else.  Or thinking.  Or speaking.

“Lexa?”  She doesn’t think it’s the first time Clarke has tried to get her attention.

“Yes, sorry.  Got a little…I just.  Hi.” She wants to say something cool, or sexy, or just stop smiling like an idiot, but she can’t, so she says the only thing running through her mind.

“You look beautiful, Clarke.”

Judging from the smile on Clarke’s face, it is the right choice of words.

“Thank you.” She seems flustered for a moment.  “You…beautiful…as well.  Also.”  Clarke lets out some adorable nervous laughter.  “You know what I mean.  Come in.  I just need to grab my shoes.”

Lexa walks into the apartment and sees boxes everywhere she looks.  She is a little surprised at a tinge of sadness.

“Sorry, it’s a mess.  I have been trying to get everything packed for the move Sunday. I still have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Oh, it’s cool.  I…I was actually excited to look at your trees again.”  She watches Clarke walk to her room and emerge with a pair of black flats, her cheeks pink, as she smiles and gives Lexa a disbelieving look.  

“You know, you don’t have to say stuff like that.  I have already agreed to go out with you.”

Lexa is used to Clarke’s inability to accept compliments by now, and knows that being insistent is key.

“I know that.  I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.  But they are good.  And they make me smile.”  She shrugs. “That's all.”

Clarke just smiles and shakes her head, as she gathers her things.  Lexa takes the opportunity to look her over more closely, barely able to pull her eyes from Clarke’s face. 

They had decided on slightly more casual attire to ease some of their nerves and Clarke had opted for a pair of dark purple skinny jeans that fit her snuggly and a low cut black sleeveless shirt with a bit of lacy fringe at the top.  Lexa glances over the shape of shoulders; the soft curve of her cleavage just under the lace, the way her pants hug her thighs and accentuate the curves of her body.   She seems to glow…not physically but…something about her is like light, and it is very apparent to Lexa at this moment.  It draws Lexa in.  

Everything else around her is fuzzy and insignificant, but Clarke is in sharp focus.

This time, at least, she is able to shake herself out of her trance before Clarke notices.

“Ready?”  Clarke smiles with an excited look on her face.  Lexa hopes she can see that look again and again as the night continues..

Lexa just wants to pinch herself.  She can’t quite believe this is all happening.  She feels her hands shaking again. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Clarke seems taken back by the request.  Lexa is, too, actually.  She’s not sure what made her say it, but she can’t make herself take it back, so she just watches Clarke’s mind turning.

“Uh, yes.  Sure.  Definitely.”

Lexa smiles at the response, and leans in.  She feels her nerves calm for a moment when Clarke’s warm, lip-glossed lips press against her own.  There is a hint of strawberry, and the intoxicating taste of Clarke. She presses fully in, melting at the softness of it, but she has to pull back almost immediately, knowing that if she allows it to last any longer, she will not be able to leave the apartment.

“Okay, now I’m ready.” 

Clarke seems to be slightly disappointed that the kiss was so brief, but she recovers and smiles widely.

Lexa holds her arm out, feeling much more confident.  That slowly growing beast in her chest has been momentarily sated, and she smiles when she feels Clarke’s arms wrapped in her own.

* * *

 

When they are seated at their table, drinks and food ordered, Clarke allows herself a few moments to look around her…at somewhere other than Lexa, which is where she has been focused since she found her at her front door. 

The place she has brought Clarke to is in an old warehouse that has been converted into a brewery and restaurant.  There are giant metal vats in the back (she assumes where the beer brews), and all of the walls are exposed brick.  Somehow, it doesn’t seem as harsh as it should, though.  All of the tables and chairs are dark, finished oak and there are several fireplaces lit around the walls.  There is a larger fireplace near a stage in the center of one of the walls, with large leather chairs and a round oak table in front of it.  There are a few fur rugs and what look like wood carvings throughout the room.  The room has sparse and soft overhead lighting, but is lit mostly by the candles on each table, that are set deep inside stone cups.  It feels warm and cozy.

_Kind of feel like I’m in a castle._

She lightly chastises herself for her silliness, but she can’t help it when Lexa looks so regal in front of her.

Lexa’s face is lit beautifully by the candle light, relaxed yet stoic, as her soft, green eyes run over Clarke ( _for the millionth time_ , Clarke notes).  Clarke is reminded of the first time she saw Lexa, and how she thought she looked like some sort of Greek goddess.  She has a similar thought now, as she traces her eyes over high cheek bones and perfectly plump lips. 

Lexa seems to fit well with the decorum for some reason.  Maybe it’s the castle feel of it.  Clarke can picture Lexa as some powerful queen, weight of the world on her delicate, strong shoulders, marble mask in place…for everyone except Clarke.  Sitting inside stone walls, warmed by a fire, resting, between wars and the needs of her adoring subjects.

She smiles at her imagination.  She feels an urge to reach across and just run her finger down Lexa’s jaw.

“I like this place,” she says, to distract herself from getting carried away.

Lexa’s lip turns up gently into a grin.  “I hoped you would.  This is one of the few places I can get Anya to come with me that isn’t the Drop Ship.  Its…I don’t know.  I like the feel of it.”  It is simple, but Clarke enjoys her description.  Agrees with it.  “They have live music, sometimes.  Usually just one guy, playing a guitar and singing.  It’s nice.  The acoustics are perfect for it.  I think they might have it tonight, at some point.”

Clarke smiles at the thought.  “I would love that!  Acoustic music is my favorite!   It’s so simple and clean.  It’s my comfort music.” 

“I know.”  She smiles at Clarke’s blush and continues.  “I remember that you mentioned it the first time we hung out.”

“Really?  I don’t remember that.”  She feels a small surge of happiness at Lexa’s recollection.

“Yeah, I think it was just a throwaway thought in the midst of an adorable ramble.”

Clarke chuckles.  _That does sound like me._   “I do tend to ramble…sorry about that.”

“Oh, don’t apologize!”  Lexa looks so sincere.  “I lo…”  She coughs loudly, as if she had something stuck in her throat.  “I…like that about you.  That’s why you’re you,” Lexa pauses for a minute, becoming flustered.  “Honestly,” she pauses and Clarke can’t help finding her blush adorable.  “I think I was a lost cause after that first night.”

It sounds like a confession.  Clarke’s heart races as she watches Lexa become a gentle shade of pink, but continues to hold Clarke’s gaze.

“Really?”

“Yeah…how could I not be?”  Lexa just holds her gaze steadily.  She doesn’t have any hint of embarrassment when she speaks again.  The genuineness of it makes Clarke’s heart ache in the best possible way. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Clarke.  It’s always so strange to me that you don’t understand how great you are.  I think that the way you think…the way you talk is just…everything about you is” she grins watching Lexa wriggle in her chair, searching for words, “…you’re kind of amazing.”

Clarke wants to hide behind something, but she never wants Lexa to stop looking at her like she is right now.

The waiter chooses this moment to bring their food, and Clarke is grateful for the distraction. 

The food is delicious and, as they eat, Lexa keeps speaking in a soft, melodic voice, talking about things like the forest and the history of sharing meals, looking at Clarke with gentle, warm, attentive eyes, and Clarke feels like she is being wrapped in a warm blanket by the whole experience.  She finishes eating and relaxes her elbows on the table, getting lost in the sound of Lexa’s voice, watching her speak.  She's so happy that Lexa shares her thoughts so freely now.  She's beautiful when she's talking; thinking; doing anything really. 

Being here, on a date, with Lexa…it is so different than she thought it would be.

She still has butterflies and nerves, but it feels so much like coming home.  Lexa seems so at ease with her, sharing her thoughts as they come.  It feels like this is always how they should be interacting.  Without hiding how they feel, without pretending that Lexa is not the only thing that she sees, without holding back touches...

_I wish I could touch her._

Without another thought, she reaches over to where Lexa’s hand is sitting gently next to her beer mug and traces fingers with her own.  Lexa’s eyes shoot to Clarke’s hand, but she lets Clarke pick it up, and bring her other hand over to trace the palm. 

“Is this okay?”  She feels like she should ask, but Lexa quickly nods and has the ghost of a smile on her lips.  They sit in silence for a moment, Clarke just enjoying the feel of Lexa’s skin under her finger tips.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you…you were talking about camping.  When’s the last time you went?”

Lexa smiles, though her eyes are sad for a moment.  “Before my parent’s died, we used to go every year.  But after that, for a while, I wasn’t able to even go to the park without breaking down.”  Clarke gently rubs her finger over the back of Lexa’s hand as she speaks.  “Later, it was just something I didn’t think about.  I was always worried about something or trying to finish things.  Life got in the way, I guess.  Now it just…hasn’t been a priority.  But, I think I would like to go back.  It was always sort of a…restful place for me.”

“We could go camping together, sometime…if you want?”  Lexa smiles and nods her head gently.

“I think I would enjoy that.  Do you like camping?  I mean, I already know how feel about ‘tree’ part of it.”  Her smile is probing. 

“I just like being in nature in general.  I think trees are very…majestic.  All plants I guess, but trees are…special.”  She giggles at her words.  “I know it sounds a little silly but…I think they have this sort of consciousness…that they know, in some way, what is going on around them.  Not how we do exactly…they don’t have language or eyes…but…” Clarke shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her thoughts.  “I don’t know, they breathe and they grow and change and adapt, just like we do…but slower.  I think that is really cool. Sorry, I know it’s kind of ridiculous.”

“It’s not.  Not at all.  You appreciate their life.  You have an open mind about what that life could consist of.  That’s not silly, it’s beautiful.  You’re beautiful.”

Clarke beams at Lexa, and she continues to stare back.  Clarke feels her body warm the longer they hold the look, and, though they have barely drank any of their beer, Clarke feels loose and less inhibited all of the sudden; like she is getting drunk on Lexa’s gazes; her thoughts; her touch. 

She is enjoying the date so much, but suddenly she can’t wait until the end of the night, when she can kiss Lexa; touch Lexa; show her in every way possible how much she likes her.

It’s more than anyone has made her feel with the touch of a hand and a look. 

“Lexa, I’m really glad we did this.  This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”  Its barely more than a whisper, but its honest and the only thing that Clarke can say that will not give away what she is thinking about.

Lexa smiles sweetly back.  “It’s not over yet, Clarke.”

 

* * *

 

Lexa decides to stay at the restaurant just long enough for the guitar player to come out and play a few songs, enjoying the way Clarke became enraptured in the music, before she decides to continue the next part of the evening.

Their next destination is close by, so they decide to walk, and Lexa is grateful for the choice as soon as Clarke links their fingers together.  They walk in silence for a while, edging a little closer to each other as they go, until their shoulders are pressed together.  Lexa loves the way that Clarke is always running her fingers over the skin of Lexa’s hand.  It is so calming and exciting at the same time.  It’s so familiar but always makes her feel brand new.

When they reach their destination, Lexa looks at Clarke’s reaction and is rewarded with a blindingly beautiful smile, and those excited blue eyes.

“The Planetarium?!  We get to see space??”

Lexa nods as she chuckles.

As they walk through the doors, she lets Clarke know a little more about her plan.  “A former client…a friend I guess, works here, and I managed to make sure we are uninterrupted for an hour or so.” 

They make their way through the foyer into a giant domed room.  Lexa leads them to a blanket that is on an opening in the middle of the chairs that surround the walls.

“If you would rather take a chair, we can do that…I just thought it would be nice to look at them laying down…”  She hopes Clarke doesn’t see it as forward of her.  She hadn’t even thought about that possibility until just now.

Clarke just giggles and slowly lowers herself to the blanket.  “Don’t be ridiculous Lexa.”

With relief, Lexa continues.  “So we can just pick a section of the sky, or we can do one of those educational videos…whatever you prefer…”

“Just the sky is perfect.”  Clarke is already sitting, looking up expectantly, like she can barely contain her excitement.  Lexa feels pride grow in her chest at her plan.

Lexa takes a few moments, trying to remember what Gustus had told her about the screen controls. She finally figures it out and takes her spot next to Clarke on the blanket just as the program starts.  The lights dim and the star appear above them.

Lexa can’t help the intake of breath she takes and hears Clarke do the same.  The dome seems to have expanded vastly, suddenly transporting them into the galaxy.  There are stars in every direction, blanketing the dome.  She sees subtle clouds of color where cosmic dust seems to be gathered and is momentarily speechless. 

Lexa wonders briefly, how long it would take her to count all of the stars, but knows it would be useless to try.  It seems like more become visible the longer she looks.  She is impressed by the detail of it, but doesn’t stay in her thoughts long as her eyes are drawn to see the reaction of the girl next to her.

Clarke’s face is magnificent.  Lexa doesn’t think her eyes could open any wider.  She watches as they slowly move around, trying to take in every inch of the sky above them.  Her beautiful soft lips are slightly open and all the skin on her face is relaxed; she’s looks mesmerized.  She looks, for a moment, like she may cry in amazement. 

Lexa can’t seem to look anywhere else.  They sit like that for a while, enjoying their respective views.  She notices the second that the gears in Clarke’s head start turning again.  Her brow furrows just slightly, though her eyes are still trying to touch every inch of the starry night on display.  Lexa has turned fully now and is leaning her head on her hand, not even trying to hide her gaze.

“You’re staring.”  Clarke smirks gently, but her eyes are still on the sky.  Lexa only feels slightly embarrassed, but she doesn’t look away.  She just shrugs a little and grins back.

_I’m glad she knows.  I want her to._

“You’re missing a fantastic view.”

“I like my view just fine, thank you.”  She revels in the blush that spreads up Clarke’s neck.  Even in the darkness, it is visible, glowing in the starlight.

“What are you thinking about, when you look up there?”  Lexa shifts a little closer.  She didn’t realize until the question left her lips, how badly she wants to know the answer.

Clarke seems to blush further at the question, and Lexa cannot figure out why.

“I don’t know…at first nothing.  But, in, like a really good way.”  She pauses, thoughtfully. “Looking at the stars is one of maybe two or three things that shuts my brain up for a while.  It’s just…it’s hard to wrap my mind around how big the universe is…how vast.  I feel like a kid.  I’m just…just in awe.”  She pauses for a moment, smiling. 

She looks at Lexa, meeting her eyes, as if she needs the contact; needs to speak _to_ her, instead of just _next to_ her.  “When I was younger, and especially after my dad…it would make me…kind of sad, thinking about space and how big it was.”  She pauses.  Lexa can feel a familiar warmth in her chest.  She can recognize when Clarke is becoming passionate about what she is saying.  She is already leaning forward to catch every word.

“I never really bought into any religion or idea of God very easily…most of the things that give people hope…I just didn’t buy them, usually.  They seemed like a leap in logic that I couldn’t make.  The idea that the universe was so gigantic and that I was so tiny and insignificant in comparison…it made me kind of…depressed…or just stuck; the pointlessness of everything.  The insignificance of it.  Of us.  That we’re here and then we’re just…gone, in a second…and there’s no real purpose.”  She stops again, looking back up.

Lexa isn’t sure why, but every word is causing something in her gut to tremble.  She aches for Clarke’s past pain, but is rejoicing at learning more.  She is close enough to feel the heat of Clarke’s body, but she can’t stop the pull that she feels.  She pays no attention as her hand begins to fiddle with Clarke’s shirt, rubbing lightly against her stomach through the cloth.  It seems to be an automatic action intended to comfort.

“What about now?”

She sees Clarke look back at her gently, her eyes are so clear and misty.  “Now, I feel…”  Lexa swoons at the tiny shrug and a smirk Clarke makes, “lucky, I guess.  It has taken me a while, but I have realized how…so…” she watches as Clarke struggles for words, “I get to decide what my own meaning is, you know?”

Clarke seems satisfied with the way she has phrased it, and pulls her hands back underneath her head.  Lexa sees her stretch her legs out a little and cross her ankles, before she continues.  “I mean, our existence is kind of…chance; happenstance…as far as we know, anyway.  It’s kind of a…right-place-right-time kind of thing…that we’re here at all; that we evolved to become this.  That we can think and feel and move around.  And even though our lives are nothing compared to how long all that” she nods her head up, “has existed…we still get to live it…choose what we do; choose what to give our attention and time to; choose how to use this random free will that we find ourselves with.  It’s a little mind-boggling to me.  We are actually part of the universe; not just living in it.” 

She looks at Lexa again.  “There is a quote by someone…I don’t remember who…its something like, ‘Human kind is the Universe experiencing itself.’  I like it.  Because, we are.  At a quantum level, we are made from the same things as all of those stars and galaxies and planets.”  Her eyes are so earnest. “Isn’t that ridiculous?  Just…think about that…I mean…we are the universe experiencing…life.  Even though it sucks a lot, there are some pretty great parts, too.  Like this moment.  It’s a pretty good one.”  She smiles shyly toward Lexa, but glances toward the ceiling again.  She seems lost in her thoughts, as if she has been whisked away by them, though her blush is still visible, spreading from her chest, up her neck.

 “I never thought about it that way…”

Lexa doesn’t know how to respond to Clarke’s words; to the hopeful, blue flame in her eyes. To the way she looks so heavenly in the light of the stars.  Looking at Clarke like this, listening to her talk about the existence and stars and meaning…she believes every word.  Clarke’s skin could only be explained as a chance miracle of the universe; her smile makes perfect sense as something that was formed from the remnants of an ancient star somewhere; the fact that her eyes have come into existence so perfectly and bright, in this moment, is the only thing that makes sense to Lexa.

Even the emotion running through Lexa’s body feels like some sort of cosmic experience contained in the limited space of her chest.

She lets her eyes trail over Clarke, who is still gazing upward, though more determined now, as if willing herself not to return Lexa’s stare.  Lexa is close to her, her fingers still rubbing back and forth, slowly, over Clarke’s stomach.  She sees the stars reflected in the shining blue of her eyes; a whole galaxy contained behind them.  A part of the universe that Lexa could travel in limitlessly.

She lets her gaze trail down over the slope of her adorable nose, to the beauty spot on her lip.  She watches as her mouth exhales a shaky breath.  Lexa senses that Clarke feels her gaze on her, but when she finds her eyes, they are still on the ceiling.  She trails her hand up Clarke’s stomach and finds her jaw, letting her fingers trail lightly along the skin until they are just below her ear, and then back forward to the side of her chin, before she guides Clarke face to look into her own.

Clarke isn’t surprised.  She seemed to know it was going to happen.  Lexa thinks she sees fear behind her eyes.  She feels a sudden panic rise in her chest.

“Are you okay?”  She says it softly, just loud enough to reach Clarke in the small space between their faces.

Clarke nods once, but doesn’t say anything.  The air between them seems thick, slowly filling with an intoxicating electricity that Lexa can’t identify.  It’s not the same tension that usually sits between them, all lust and longing.  It is seems to sizzle a little more.  It seems to be heavier; more meaningful.  They have been holding each other’s gaze for what seems like hours…it could have been minutes or seconds or days.  Lexa has lost all sense of time.

Clarke is looking at her lips now, her eyes darting back and forth from her eyes, her head still laying on her hands.  Lexa glances down and as soon as her eyes land on her pink lips, she knows what she has to do.  It feels like she has absolutely no choice in the matter.  She leans forward.

As soon as they meet, both girls release a sigh.  Their mouths press softly against each other for a moment before Lexa feels Clarke’s hand come to her cheek, gently sliding the pads of her fingers down.  Just feeling her.  Lexa doesn’t know how such a soft touch elicits the forceful pounding in her chest.  Clarke opens her mouth slightly and edges her tongue out to press against Lexa’s bottom lip, as Lexa feels herself pulled in further, deepening the kiss.

The movement of Clarke’s other hand from behind her own head throws the balance off slightly, and Lexa finds herself gently tilting over Clarke, her hand reaching out to catch herself from falling.  She keeps it there, resting next to Clarke’s head.  Her breath catches when she feels herself press against Clarke’s side, feeling one of Clarke’s breasts against her chest, trapped in the space between her own.

The kiss breaks apart at the contact and, when she finds Clarke’s eyes, she sees the fear again.  She looks uncertain; overwhelmed by something.

Lexa understands why.  She can feel how heavy this moment seems to her.  Clarke is probably feeling some of the same.  She also notices that Clarke’s arms that is closest to her is at an awkward angle, being blocked from stretching out by Lexa’s arm, that her head was resting on.

She leans back onto it and decides to give Clarke a few minutes.  She gently guides Clarke's arm down next to her body, before lightly running her fingers against Clarke's forarm as she speaks.

“Did you know that my dad was really into poetry?”  She isn’t sure where the words came from, but she had an impulse to calm Clarke, and Clarke seemed to calm when Lexa voiced her random thoughts.  Its one of the things that was so intriguing about her…

It seemed to do the trick.  Clarke’s face became confused for a moment, and a small smile appeared as she shook her head

“I did not.”

* * *

  

Clark feels a wave of affection for the beautiful girl leaning on her hand, lying beside her.

She had panicked.  It was all so perfect.  Lexa was so near her, and she smelled vaguely minty and so very Lexa, and she had brought Clarke to look at the stars and Clarke felt her body tremble at the kiss. 

It wasn’t like any of the kisses they had shared.  It was so gentle, sweet, and… _soulful?_   Clarke didn’t know what it was, but it felt like something really important had shifted in her.  And she had not been prepared for it. 

Lexa’s ability to read her did not make the feeling go away, but it definitely helped calm her for a moment.

“Yeah, he was really into Emerson and Whitman.  The last thing I remember him reading was Pablo Neruda.  He would throw out these random lines to my mom sometimes.  She pretended to hate it, called it cheesy…but she loved it.”

Clarke has forgotten her panic.  The look on Lexa’s face is so tender and reminiscent.  It is nice hearing her talk about her parent’s with such fondness.  It is a new fragment of her and Clarke is relishing in discovering it.

“He tried to get me into it…”  She smirks at this.

“And?  Did it work?”

Lexa looks a little…embarrassed actually.  Clarke is hanging on her every word, and she cant wait to hear her answer.

“At the time…not really…I was young.  I…” she seems to struggle for her words.  “I didn’t understand it, really.  Not until later.  All the words…I knew most of them, individually.  But It was over my head back then.  How words could come together like that.  How they could be constructed into something so lyrical and beautiful, that conveyed so much more.  Poetry is so much more than the sum of its parts…”

Clarke is struck by her words; by how she claims that she didn’t take to it but…”You seem like you like it?” She cant help but smirk, as Lexa looks at the ground for a moment, her cheeks becoming pinker still.

“Well…I’ve…I’ve been thinking about it a lot more lately…It’s…you kind of remind me of it.”  Her eyes are still on the ground.

“Of what?  Poetry?”  It feels like a sweet thing to hear…it makes her heart flutter.  But she doesn’t understand fully.

“Well…yeah. I was always a little fascinated by them…even though, at the time, when I didn’t understand most of it.  I wanted to.  When I got older, though, and was able to read more…I realized that…the whole of them…of a complete poem, makes sense in a way that all the individual parts never did.  I had these emotional responses to how they flowed and they helped me understand things.  About…just…feeling.  And living.  And, I think, even something about who my dad was.”

The look on Lexa’s face is so vulnerable, and Clarke knows that she is sharing something deeply personal.  Maybe more personal, in a way, than anything she has shared before.

“And you…sometimes, when you talk…or the way you move.  I don’t understand where I am, or what you’re saying…but then you finish saying it, and…just…the look on your face and the sound of your voice…it all just makes more sense than anything else.  I feel like I know exactly what you mean and I believe it so fully.  And it feels like there are so many things that I have always gotten caught up in, and worry about.  But they just seem like words now, in a poem.  And when I’m with you, I understand what the poem is trying to say…and…God! I’m sorry, I know that makes no sense at all, I just…”

Clarke kisses her before she can become more embarrassed.  Because there is nothing else she wants to do.  She feels like, if she cannot touch her immediately…time will stop, and the world will not stop turning.

Lexa lets out a slight whimper when Clarke presses their mouths together.  The force of it pushes Lexa onto her back and Clarke wastes no time in using the momentum to set herself over Lexa’s hips, straddling her, her mouth never leaving the ecstasy she has found.

Her hands are on Lexa’s cheeks, gripping her face, and her tongue finds its way into Lexa’s mouth.  Lexa responds by leaning up into the kiss, gripping Clarke’s hips, her tongue supple and energetic, sliding against Clarke’s with a tender fervor that is quickly driving Clarke mad.  She explores Lexa’s mouth, nibbles her lips, sucks her tongue, taste’s the roof of her mouth…all the while, paying close attention to how Lexa's breath changes; to the slight noises she makes when Clarke changes the kiss in any way.  It seems to last forever, and Clarke doesn’t think it could ever last long enough.

She moves further down, suddenly feeling bold, and runs her tongue up the side of Lexa’s throat.  She realized she had never tasted it, and now wonders if she will ever want to taste anything else.  She can feel the vibrations of Lexa’s groan and attaches her lips to the soft skin just above her collarbone, sucking lightly and letting her tongue press fully to the flesh, unable to process just how pliant it is…how smooth.  She continues to explore the expanse of her neck, finding her pulse, feeling the twitches in muscles. 

She feels Lexa’s fingers inch underneath the hem of her shirt, gripping tighter still, and she bites down softly at her pulse point in reaction.

“Clarke” it’s breathy and only spurs Clarke on further, “we…you have to stop…I…we can’t…not here... _shit_!”  Lexa barely gets out her words between breathes, and Clarke almost ignores her.  She already feels the dull pulsing thud between her legs and can tell Lexa is in a similar state from the way her hips keep raising off the blanket lightly.

But she knows Lexa is right. 

She stops abruptly, and pulls back to look down at Lexa.

_God she’s so fucking gorgeous._

Her lips are puffy, her eyes are almost black, and she can actually see stars in them from the screen overhead.

“Let’s go back to my place.  Now.”

It’s not a question or a suggestion.  But Lexa doesn’t seem to mind.  She just nods her head quickly and lets herself be pulled up when Clarke stands.  They walk quickly to exit the building before Lexa turns suddenly and jogs back to turn off all the lights and the screen.

When she is done, Clarke’s heart beats faster when she sees Lexa smiling and jogging back to her, pecking her on the lips, before turning and dragging her out of the building, sending them both into a fit of nervous giggles.

 

* * *

 

 

The walk back to the car seems endless.  Clarke’s hand in her own is so warm and soft, but it is not helping the ache in her belly; the tingle in her center.

The car ride is even worse.  Lexa almost wishes she hadn’t driven.  She feels like she is unsafe behind the wheel.  Clarke refuses to let go of her hand, and she is rubbing her thumb over the skin, as she always does.  Only this time, instead of calming her, it is sending waves through her.  When she actually shivers, she sees Clarke notice, before holding her fingers still again.

When they finally reach Clarke’s apartment, they walk quickly inside and as soon as they have entered the door, she is pressed up against it, Clarke pulling her mouth into her own.  Clarke is relentless, just as she was at the planetarium, and Lexa is breathless in no time.  She kicks off her shoes, and Lexa follows suit, before being pressed against the door once again.

Clarke’s hands are wrapped around the back of Lexa’s neck and Lexa ends up wrapping her arms all the way around Clarke’s waist, hugging their bodies together.  There is no space between them and it has a slowing effect.

The kisses are deeper now, slower but fuller, keeping a steady rhythm, but relishing in the suppleness of lips and tongues.  It is sloppier but more languid; Lexa feels like they are melting together.  Clarke is moving her feet slowly backwards, and Lexa is along for the ride, as they are still pressed tightly together.  Lexa doesn’t want to let go.  Clarke is so warm and fits so perfectly against her body.

With every step, their bodies rub together fully until they gently thud into Clarke’s bedroom door.  As Clarke fumbles for the knob, Lexa takes the opportunity to dip down and press full open-mouthed kisses on her neck, sliding her arms down so they are wrapped her hips.  Suddenly, just as Clarke opens the door, Lexa surprises both of them by reaching under Clarke’s ass and lifting her up.

Clarke lets out a tiny yelp of surprise, but immediately wraps her legs around Lexa and gasps as Lexa continues to ravish her neck with her tongue. 

Lexa carries her to the beds and manages to climb on it with her knees, before laying Clarke gently down on top of the sheets.  Clarke has not loosened her legs, so Lexa has no option but to press herself fully down between Clarke’s legs.  Her center is radiating heat and Lexa can feel it through Clarke's pants, right against where Lexa's shirt has risen up above her jeans.

She hears Clarke release a wonderful groan, and slides up to silence it with her mouth, rubbing her body against Clarke’s center as she goes.  They kiss some more, and Lexa has never enjoyed kissing so much, not even when she was a teenager.  Clarke seems to just know exactly what to do with her tongue at exactly the right time, and it is always so satisfying how their mouths fit together so perfectly.

Clarke’s grip on her with her thighs has loosened and her feet are on the bed now, legs still wide.  Lexa uses to space to reach a hand to rest against Clarke’s neck for a moment, before running her finger tips down over Clarke’s collar bones and finally resting against her breast, over her shirt.  Clarke hand reaches up to pull at the back of Lexa’s neck, deepening the kiss, and Lexa automatically squeezes her fingers around the mound of flesh, pressing her hips down simultaneously.

She is rewarded with the vibration of a whimper in her mouth, as Clarke becomes wetter and messier with her kisses.  Quickly, Lexa moves her hand down and under Clarke’s shirt, pressing her whole palm into the skin on Clarke’s stomach.  She had meant to make her way directly back up to the bra, but the skin she finds there is so soft that she has to grip tightly, before running her fingertips over it, loving the goosebumps her fingers leave in their wake.  Clarke’s hips are gently canting up into Lexa’s, and Lexa decides she needs to slow it down a bit, but also move things forward.  Before they both combust.

She pulls back slightly, looking down at Clarke.  She looks confused and almost pleading for Lexa to continue kissing her, but Lexa just leans down and kisses her nose, before sitting back on her knees.  Clarke furrows her brow further, almost into a pout, and props herself up and her elbows.  Lexa sees the question forming on her lips before she pulls her own shirt over her head.

Clarke face has gone slack and her eyes are roaming over Lexa’s torso.  Lexa steps back off of the bed, and slowly unbuttons her jeans and slides them down her legs, never leaving Clarke’s eyes, getting warmer and wetter just watching the look on Clarke’s face.  Lexa has never felt more sexy in her life, and she feels a little strange about it, considering she hasn’t actually slept with anyone in so long.

The anxiety doesn’t come.  She has never been more sure of anything.  She crawls back up to Clarke on the bed, who is still looking dumbfounded.  When their eyes meet, Lexa watches Clarke swallow deeply, before leaning up to a sitting position and raising her arms over her head.  It is the sweetest movement, and Lexa is reeling at how anyone can be so sexy and so cute at the same time.  She grins and reaches down to the hem of the shirt, slowly pulling Clarke’s shirt over her head.  She quickly moves to the button of her pants, wanting to see the full expanse of her body.  She slides the cloth down, Clarke wriggling to comply, and then they are flung out of sight.

Lexa looks down and feels short of breath from the sight in front of her.  Clarke has matching cerulean blue lace lingerie that hugs her hips perfectly.  Her breasts are heaving and Lexa reaches a hand out, needing her hands to travel with her eyes.  She touches her collarbone, dragging one finger gently over the curve of a breast, and down between them, before bringing both palms to her stomach, sliding them so they are on her sides. 

She needs to feel Clarke’s skin against her own.  She brings herself to lay over Clarke once more, their bellies pressing together.  It is possibly Lexa’s favorite sensation, so far…one that she has played many times in her head, since the locker room.

She reaches around Clarke's back.  Clarke lifts her back slightly, as they work together to rid Clarke of her bra, getting Lexa’s off next, before Lexa pushes their bare chests together, exhaling deeply at the sensation, before going in for another kiss. 

Clarke’s legs open again automatically.  Lexa exhales deeply, feeling the heat radiating from between Clarke’s legs, as their breasts press into each other deliciously.  Her hips push forward naturally, and it is dizzying to feel her own mound press into Clarke’s warmth, their underwear providing very little coverage.  Clarke releases a sharp gasp and Lexa pulls back to look at her.  Lexa can’t help but rock forward again…and again and again, watching Clarke’s reaction closely as she continues. 

Clarke pulls her in for a forceful kiss as she continues grinding, before finally sliding wet kisses down Clarke’s neck and breast, kissing all around one, teasingly, before finally taking a nipple into her mouth, spreading her tongue over it fully, and then sucking lightly.

Clarke tries to stifle a moan, but fails, as her hands make their way into Lexa’s hair and begin to gently scratch at her scalp.  Lexa continues her ministrations, as she palms the other breast fully, feeling nipple pebble against her hand.  She switches sides, unable to get enough of Clarke’s breasts.  She loves the softness of them; the way Clarke’s breathing becomes erratic when she touches them; the way her hand fits around them.  Clarke is shamelessly bucking her hips now, clearly trying to find friction and relief.

Lexa finally releases the nipple, and runs her tongue up Clarke’s chest, slows over her neck, and finally makes her way to Clarke’s mouth, where Clarke immediately plunges her tongue against Lexa’s.  Clarke begins to run her hands up and down Lexa’s back as they kiss, bringing one hand around to squeeze Lexa’s breast.  Lexa trembles at the action and instinctively presses down into Clarke again.  It has a ripple effect, making Clarke squeeze harder, making Lexa press down again, until Clarke finally expresses her frustration by changing their position. 

She uses Lexa’s trembling to flip them over, and Lexa finds herself being straddled, once again by Clarke.  She feels her arms pressed against the bed as Clarke immediately brings her head down attaches her mouth to Lexa’s right nipple, as if she had been waiting for hours.  She sucks energetically, and Lexa cannot stop the groan from vibrating through her throat and escaping her.

“Fuuuuck.”

Clarke stops immediately though, and Lexa’s stomach drops in disappointment, before she feels Clarke slide down and maneuver Lexa’s underwear off, ridding herself of her own next.  She moves herself back up Lexa’s body, pressing into her, slightly off to the side.  Clarke drapes her right leg over Lexa’s left, and attaches her mouth to the left nipple, gripping the right one with her fingers, rolling a nipple between her thumb and forefinger.

The suction on her nipple and the fact that she can feel Clarke’s wetness against her thigh has her writhing in no time at all.  Clarke leaves her nipple and kisses gently up her neck, as her fingers head in the opposite direction.  Clarke makes it to Lexa’s face, but instead of the kiss Lexa expects, she turns to watch the descent of her hand.  Lexa watches too, and is shocked by how arousing it is.  Clarke takes her time, running her fingers over the muscles in Lexa’s stomach; tracing a circle around her belly button, before finally flattening her palm at the top of brown curls and sliding her hand down until it is fully covering Lexa’s mound.  Lexa’s head flies backwards, unable to watch any more as she feels Clarke’s fingers glide gently between her folds. 

Clarke makes a ridiculously sexy noise of satisfaction at the contact and Lexa knows it’s because she has been dripping since the planetarium.  She grips at Clarke's back with one hand, and the bed sheets with the other. Clarke is slow at first, exploring every inch, and Lexa thinks she may die, and die happy, at the sensation of Clarke’s fingers gliding through her.  Its teasing and agonizing, but oh so delicious.  She only briefly gazes over her clit at first, nudging it lightly, and gliding past it, seeming lost in the feel of her.  Lexa jolts at the contact, but Clarke continues to explore, running her fingers up and down, lightly dipping near her entrance. 

Clarke moves her lips to Lexa’s neck, kissing her neck fully, and suddenly swipes up to her clit and makes one large, slow circle, sending Lexa’s hips careening upwards.  Finally, Clarke slides a finger down and dips it into Lexa’s entrance, wiggling it around, exploring new sensations.  Lexa is breathing heavily and her body is voicing her needs for her, rotating her hips as Clarke thrusts the finger slowly in and out.  When she adds another, Lexa begins to make noises she had never made before; cursing, repeatedly whispering Clarke’s name like a mantra; a prayer.

The slow and steady pace has made her spine liquid.  It feels like it has melted into her body and spread warmth that wraps around her back and flows into her arms and legs.  Her heart is pounding.  She opens her eyes for a moment, to see Clarke watching her, such adoration in her eyes, such focus in her expression, Lexa can barely stand it.  She feels her walls flutter slightly.

She feels Clarke's hips pushing lightly into her thigh, and the thought barely occurs to her to reach down to ease her ache, when Clarke pushes a thumb into Lexa’s clit with each thrust, holding Lexa’s gaze with her own.  Lexa’s eyes flutter, and she reaches up to pull Clarke in for a fumbling kiss, before having to settle for her forehead pressed against Lexa’s  She opens her eyes again, to see Clarke’s intense blue eyes again.  The pace is quick now and Clarke is staring so intensely, Lexa cannot look away, and her mouth opens wide.

“Clarke, fuck, fuck, oh, fuck I’m gonna…fuuuuck!”

Her head slams back against the pillow, her body floods with the intensity of her orgasm, as she can feel herself clasp around Clarke’s fingers.  Clarke is still gently rubbing her clit, sending spasms of pleasure through her body, carrying her through crests and waves, before she covers Clarke’s hand with her own, unable to handle another second.

She feels her skin covered with sweat and, without thinking she turns her head and pulls Clarke to her, nuzzling into the warmth of her neck, smelling her skin, placing a lazy kiss there, unable to open her eyes.  Clarke’s arm cradle her, one finding a space beneath her neck, the other draping over her stomach, slowly caressing her side, as she presses a gentle kiss to Lexa’s forehead, and releases a contented sigh.

“You are so beautiful.”

Lexa’s chest inflates, but she cannot manage to express herself with words at the moment, so she nuzzles further into Clarke’s neck.

She feels Clarke grin against her skin.

When she finally comes back to reality a little, she begins to become aware of the wet warmth still on her thigh.  Clarke is soaked and Lexa can actually feel herself become aroused again at just how wet she is. 

She begins to kiss Clarke’s neck again, with more purpose than her lazy, post-orgasm kisses.  She is insistent, sucking and licking, and she hears Clarke’s breath increase, and feels the hand caressing Lexa’s side begin to grip at her.

She slowly flips them over, and Clarke does not fight it.  Lexa keeps her thigh exactly where it is and slides against Clarke, unable to stop her moan at how much wetness is there.  She speaks before she thinks.

“You are so fucking _wet_.”

It surprises her.  Lexa has never thought of herself as someone who talks during sex.  But it seemed so automatic with Clarke.  She wanted Clarke to have every part of her, including her amazement at the sexiness of Clarke’s arousal. 

Clarke’s reaction makes it well worth it.

“Yes…” she says it through heavy lidded eyes, her face already coming apart at Lexa’s movements, “watching you come drove me fucking crazy…”  It’s almost a whisper, a groan.  It throaty and raspy and Lexa can’t help but rub more fervently against Clarke’s core, eliciting a deep groan from Clarke.

She doesn’t want Clarke to have to wait any longer and pushes her hand down between their bodies, immediately coming into contact with Clarke’s clit.

“Fuck, Lexa.”

_This is bliss._

She can’t help but run four fingers through Clarke's folds, touching everywhere at once, wanting to feel every part of her, and knowing that Clarke wouldn’t last long.  Finally, she dips a finger into Clarke’s entrance and curls her finger up, dragging across the spongey front wall, pulling out and pushing back in continuously, rubbing Clarke’s clit with her palm.  When she pushes in a second finger, it takes two thrusts for Clarke to come completely undone. 

Her thighs tremble and grip around Lexa’s hips.  As her back arches up and her head thrashes from side to side, an unintelligible stream of whispered cursing floods out of her mouth.  Lexa feels her hand become soaked in Clarke’s arousal as she slows, trying to elicit every last sensation from Clarke’s climax.  Clarke’s body is still arched up, light sweat reflected on her chest.  The skin is so enticing, Lexa doesn’t think as she leans down and licks between Clarke’s breasts lightly, before kissing up her body.

When she removes her hand from Clarke, the blonde releases a slight whine, and becomes jelly, as Lexa covers her body fully, kissing her deeply.  It is all tongue and wetness, slow and lazy, but it is glorious and Lexa could continue all evening with just this kiss.

Finally, Lexa scoots down to lay her head against Clarke’s chest, and listens to her heart beat, pressing her face into Clarke’s wonderfully soft breast.

The steadying beat lulls her into a peaceful sleep until she is woken by roaming hands and searching lips once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven is back next time!
> 
> And probably more sex


	14. The morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Processing and fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I get stuck in the interactions, and it makes the story move along slowly...

Clarke feels herself wake slowly.  It is from a very deep sleep.  She can tell from the creeping warm fog slowly lifting from her mind, spreading awareness down her neck, through her skin, and into her limbs.  She can’t remember the last time she felt so well-rested waking up.  She doesn’t open her eyes right away, enjoying the soft, gentle warmth of her waking consciousness.

As she tries to stretch her limbs, she finds them wrapped around something warm and soft. 

_Hmm?  Not a pillow._  

It is heavy; heavy enough that the arm it is covering is asleep and slightly numb, but she has no intention of moving.  It feels too good.  The weight is supple and soft, and squeezing it closer sends a tingle through her body and helps maintain the warmth of her slumber. 

A smile spreads across Clarke’s face as images of the night before swim through her mind and she remembers.  _Lexa’s lips; her tongue; her skin; her eyes; her voice…her moans._  

When she finally pries her eyes open, she sees brown hair splayed across her pillow.  She shifts her head slightly and feels her chin rub against soft curls on the top of Lexa’s head.  She becomes cognizant of soft breath on her neck; of arms around her waist.  Lexa is so still.  The only movement is the steady contraction and expansion of Lexa’s chest.  Clarke’s arm moves slightly up and down with every breath Lexa takes.

As her awareness continues to grow, she can feel lips ghosting against her neck, accompanying the warm breath.  Clarke can’t stop the shivers that travel involuntarily down her body.  A sleepy smile covers her face.

Lexa seems to be fairly unconscious.  She wants to look at her, but she doesn't want to wake her. Lexa continues to nuzzle further into Clarke in her sleep, probably sensing Clarke’s movement.  Clarke swoons at how good it feels and her heart beats a little faster.

She feels content.  Touching Lexa - having her in her arms - feels very…nice.  More than nice.

_Right.  It feels right.  Like its where she belongs._

The night before still feels unreal.

Lexa’s had been so insistent…needy even…in her touches – with her kisses.  It had driven Clarke crazy; made her feel beautiful and sexy; in a way she had never felt before.  Lexa seemed to be burned into her skin. 

Once hadn’t been enough. 

It had started out so heated, Clarke could barely keep herself contained.  After they had brought each other over the edge once, everything slowed down…to an easy, dripping, maddening pace.

It was gentle and soft, but so intense.  Lexa had barely let her eyes stray from Clarke’s.  They watched each other; explored sensations; rode a wave that Clarke wasn’t prepared for, until both of them crashed to the shore together.

It was nothing like Clarke had expected.

Clarke knew it would be amazing. 

_How could it not be?  It’s Lexa.  She’s amazing…_ She squeezes the girl tighter to her chest again.

But she had never thought it could be like that.  

She had had her fair share of one night stands and hook ups.  That’s _all_ she had…for a long time.  Satisfying some physical need, always drunk, almost never remembering names…barely even faces.  They were fun, mostly.  Some were even satisfying.

It had never been like that though; with so much emotion; with so much focus on eyes and small touches, rather than trying to find satisfaction as quickly as possible.  There was so much more intensity than she was expecting.  Her body had shaken all over; her heart had raced the whole time, until the moments that it stopped beating entirely.  She had to stop herself from crying the second time.  It was almost too much.

With Lexa, it was…it felt like a journey, rather than a desitination…one that she enjoyed every part of; the detours, the road blocks…even when they ran out of steam and could go no further, they just curled into each other and fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s’ arms.  

It felt like a dream now…the whole evening.  Listening to Lexa’s voice, like honey, over soft candle light.  Watching space, in the sky, and between them, sitting among the stars.  Lexa was sweet, and strangely romantic, with her odd poetic metaphors and the spilling of her deepest, fondest memories.  She had shared something so special and gentle and it made Clarke want more of her, yet again.

_I can’t seem to get enough._

She had split Clarke open, and this…this need, that Clarke didn’t realize was there, came pouring out.  She had never experienced anything quite like Lexa’s bare skin; her incessant lips; her wet center, dripping just for Clarke.  Watching her come apart under Clarke’s fingers was something Clarke didn’t think she would ever get tired of.  She wanted to make Lexa feel everything.  Lexa experiencing pleasure was more of a turn on for Clarke than she thought anything could be.

It wasn’t just the night, though.  It was the last few weeks.  It _all_ seemed unreal.

Clarke thought back to all the little moments…all of their small conversations, slight touches, and prolonged eye contact.  The incident in the locker room.  She felt like she was a different person in those last few weeks.  Different than she had been before; than she ever thought she could be.  It progressed so fast…but so steadily.  She’d been so focused on Lexa…she organized her days around her…she was at the forefront of her mind all the time.

Her thoughts started to pick up speed at the realization.

_What if I am not that person?  What if this is yet another instance of falling into something to escape something else?  Escape the loneliness, or sadness, or numbness?  What if Lexa wants something that I can’t give her?_

It was hard to feel anxious about it with Lexa here.  But her thoughts were insistent, so she still managed…

With Finn, it had started sweet, too.  They enjoyed each other’s company.  They did things together (occasionally something that didn’t involve some sort of substance).  They had great sex.

_Not anywhere near as good as with Lexa…_

Clarke had relied on him to feel good; to feel whole.  He became her focus; the only thing that mattered.

But then…he slowly revealed all of these parts of himself that he had kept hidden before; his insecurity; his jealousy; his own pain and the demons he was trying to escape himself.  Eventually, it became clear that Clarke was no more than another substance to him.  One that would ease _his_ hurt; make _him_ feel whole.

That’s what they were to each other, though.  They used each other, in a way.  Maybe there were some real feelings tied up in it…but feelings were just chemicals anyway.  It’s all an illusion.  It’s all just…people getting what they need.

Clarke ended up hating Finn. 

But she also felt that she was never much better than him.

When she had realized that…when she realized how they had both been so convinced it was love when they were just using each other…it ripped her apart.  It changed how she saw the world; how she saw people; how she trusted (or, rather, never would again) anything that she felt…anything people said.

_Maybe any relationship is like that, when you boil it down to its essence.  Maybe they were always selfish._

Maybe that’s why she avoided them.

And even then, when he was gone…when she heard about his death…it was painful.  It was a confusing kind of painful.  Even if she had gotten over everything…letting someone have that much power over you was dangerous.  It could hurt, in one way or another.  It always hurt.

Having something and losing it was always awful.

Having nothing was numb, but at least it didn’t hurt like that.

But here she was.  Already feeling like she had given Lexa more trust than she had intended.  Already caring for her more than she thought possible.

She is suddenly terrified of being destroyed again.

_And eventually, destruction will occur.  Always._

Clarke thinks of how great it feels to be here, wrapped around Lexa, feeling soft breaths against her neck.  It’s like making it to the top of a mountain.

_But there is only one place to go from the top._

She argues with herself, before slowly, gently wriggling out of bed.

Part of her feels a little like crying at the loss of contact.  But another part of her is starting to breathe heavily and let her thoughts carry her away.

_I need to calm the fuck down.  I need to get a hold of myself._

She finds a shirt and some shorts and throws them on.  Slowly, she makes her way through the bedroom door, trying to limit how long she watches the girl still asleep in her bed; how she curls around Clarke’s pillow and buries her face there.  Her chest aches to go back, but she closes the door softly, trying to make as little noise as possible. 

She stops for a moment, surveying the boxes covering the living room.  She had almost forgotten that she was supposed to finish packing today.  There was so much to do.  She is about to start throwing herself into it, still in shorts and a sleep shirt, a restlessness in her body pushing her forward, when her stomach grumbles loudly.

Without thinking, she walks towards the kitchen and swings the refrigerator door open, revealing a carton of eggs, four beers, a half-full bottle of milk, and, much to her surprise, a pack of bacon.  She had forgotten about it, but is grateful at the moment.

Pulling items out, she begins to work silently, letting her thoughts quiet as she cooks.  Breakfast is one of the few things she trusts herself to make.  She hadn’t realized it, but she is making enough food for two and merely shrugs when she recognizes it. 

_She’s here.  It would be rude not to cook for her._

Clarke rolled her eyes at herself.  Of course it would be rude but, also, it’s Lexa.  She is sweet and kind and all Clarke wanted to do was to make her smile and see her happy.

_Why is that bad?  How could that possibly be bad?_

_You never felt like that for Finn.  You only wanted to ease his pain, so that he could ease yours._

Clarke let the thought sink in for a moment.  Finn and Clarke had always understood each other in a way.  They were both hurting, but they both made each other smile.  Clarke had always enjoyed that she smiled in his presence more than she enjoyed making him smile, though.  It was a sort of selfish relationship for both of them.

But with Lexa…she feels like she wants to protect her…to care for her.  

As ridiculous as the thought feels…Clarke is happy just…knowing Lexa exists.  Knowing she is there, in the world, as she is.  Knowing that she gets to be some part of Lexa’s life.

Clarke feels like she would be content to spend her days making sure Lexa ate properly; that she wasn’t over-stressed; that she laughed through her seriousness.  Clarke would give Lexa anything.  Clarke would just be happy to be around the girl.  To watch her.  To talk with her about silly things.

She thinks that even getting to have any of that in her life for any amount of time would be better than not having at all.  It may actually be worth the pain.  It may be worth anything...

She wasn’t sure why she was equating that feeling to anything she had with Finn.

_It’s nothing like that.  Not in any way._

_But…_

She huffs at her inability to shut off her fear.  After the past few weeks she has shared with Lexa, it seems absolutely ridiculous…but she’s used to it.  She is used to the upswings of terror that hit her when she becomes too content.

She’s used to being alone.  And to convincing herself that she is okay with her loneliness.  Because, she is.  It has been good for her, actually.  She has become more accepting of herself.  She likes herself more than she ever has.

_Does it have to be a tradeoff?  Does it have to be one or the other?  Be okay with yourself or be with Lexa?  They aren’t mutually exclusive, are they?_

She suddenly walks quickly to the table, picks up her phone, plugs some headphones into it, and turns up the volume.  A momentary escape seems necessary; _let the music take me elsewhere_.  Luckily, she has pockets on the shorts she is wearing, and she drops the phone in before continuing with the food, loving the feeling of getting lost in action and the beat.

***

Lexa is slowly, but painfully, awoken by a beam of light coming in at just the right place through the blinds to hit her square in the eyes.  It warms up her face enough to cause discomfort, and darkness becomes bright orange behind her eyelids.  When she rolls over the relief is immediate.  She nuzzles her head into the soft pillow, and smells a calming scent there.  Another scent cuts through and she lifts her nose up, breathing in the smell of bacon that is wafting through the air. 

_I haven’t had bacon in so long…_

Her mouth is already watering at the thought.

She swings her arms around in search of something (she couldn’t quite recall what it was), only to find empty, soft sheets.  She suddenly remembers where she is, and has a moment of panic at finding herself alone.  Where is…

_Clarke._

She lets the smile wash over her face before anymore worry can filter into her mind, as memories from the night before flood her.  She props herself up on her elbows, looking around the empty room.  She hadn’t looked properly around last night…

_Better things to focus on…_

There are boxes stacked against the walls, though it is apparent that this room isn’t as packed as the rest of the apartment.  Most of the stuff on the desk is still spread out.  There are some notebooks stacked in a pile, a plastic cup with paint brushes sticking out of it, a few plastic figurines (some are clearly from Star Trek, some are people in long brown coats and guns and...she thinks maybe Buffy?  That's a show she knows), and about 6 pairs of colorful plastic sunglasses.  She grins at the randomness of it.

Lexa’s legs seem to rotate off the bed of their own accord.  She stands up and stretches, groaning at the wonderful soreness in her hips and stomach.  She looks around carefully, deciding to pick up a pair of tiny shorts and large shirt off of the back of a chair, hoping Clarke won't mind.  The shirt goes halfway down her thighs, and when she looks down, she sees Muppets.  She just shrugs and chuckles, walking to the bedroom door to open it.

She takes one step forward, but stops and leans against the door frame when she is faced with the sight before her.

Clarke stands at the stove top, her back mostly to Lexa, though if she turned at all, she would see her standing here.  She has headphones in her ears and is swaying lightly and bobbing her head slowly.  Lexa’s eyes trace up the soft pale skin of her legs, reaching her blue cotton shorts and a baggy white t-shirt.  Her hair is a little wild, but Lexa thinks it suits her.  She’s so at ease.  She looks like she had just rolled out of bed, and Lexa thinks that it may be the sexiest thing she has ever seen. 

She can see her head nodding and watches closely as Clarke stops moving her legs and begins to nod in more of a rolling fashion, much slower, starting at her shoulders, flowing up through her neck, as if she is getting pulled into whatever she is listening to and can’t help the movement – like a sound wave is travelling through her body.  She can see from her profile that her eyes have closed and she hears a very quiet, low humming coming from the blonde.  She stands transfixed, feeling a familiar tingle between her legs, as Clarke’s hips move very slightly, in the same sensual, but soft, way.  It was all very subtle, and Lexa can tell that it is involuntary…that Clarke is feeling it rather than thinking about it.

There are very few things that Lexa has ever seen that are more attractive than Clarke being carried away, by anything.  She is enraptured by Clarke’s mind…the way she thinks, and overthinks…but Clarke getting lost in sensation is something else entirely. 

Lexa feels her heart rate increase at the sight of seeing Clarke like this; dancing like no one is looking; feeling the music with her body.  She wants to walk up behind her and feel the movement of her hips, but she thinks it might not be the best idea near the hot stove. 

Instead, she clears her throat lightly.  When there is no reaction from Clarke, she clears it again, louder.

Clarke falters slightly, and Lexa can tell that she isn’t sure if she heard something, but she reaches up and pulls an earbud out as she turns.  Her brow is furrowed, but her face breaks into a soft, blushing smile when she sees Lexa standing there.

“Hey.  I was just…making some breakfast.”  She pulls the headphones all the way out and takes her phone out of her pocket to set it on the table.  “How…how long have you been standing there?”  She watches as Clarke’s eyes travel down her body, and she is glad she chose not to wear any bottoms.  Her whole body becomes warm at the look.

Lexa smirks.  “Not long.  Just enjoying the view.  It’s a beautiful one, first thing in the morning.”

Clarke blushes and turns back to the stove, trying to hide her grin.  “You know, you are pretty cheesy Lexa.  Has anyone ever told you that?”  She didn’t look upset about it. 

“No, but…I don’t mind.  Cheesy clichés are cliché for a reason.”

Clarke is smiling, but Lexa thinks she seems a little off.  Like she had just been lost in thought…or worry.  Lexa is not quite sure how to proceed. 

_Was it me?  Did I do something?  Does she regret it?  Should I say something?_

She opted to go with her gut…with what she really wanted to do; just toned down slightly.

She walks slowly over to Clarke, stopping only when she is maybe a few inches away, and gently reaches out to set one hand on Clarke’s waist.  She hears Clarke sigh and it is enough encouragement to set the other hand on the other hip and lean in closer, until she is gently pressed against her back.  She pulls her face up next to Clarke’s ear, trying to pay attention to any sign of discomfort.

“Are you okay?”  Lexa feels like she shouldn’t push too much.  She can sense that Clarke is thinking or feeling something that may require some delicacy, so she waits for a response without moving, just maintaining the pressure on Clarke’s hips, to let her know she is there.

Clarke finally releases a deep sigh and relaxes back into Lexa, before speaking. 

“I didn’t think so…but I…I feel better now.”  Her voice was a little sad, but relieved.  Clarke reaches down to turn the burners off, before slowly reaching for Lexa’s hands and pulling them around her stomach.  Lexa doesn’t fight it, using the opportunity to hug Clarke closer to her, and nuzzle her cheek into Clarke’s.

They stay like that for a moment, enjoying the feel of being close.  She grips Clarke tighter, her heart fluttering at the soft warmth of Clarke beneath her shirt.  Lexa wishes that she had got to wake up like this…but maybe it was something Clarke wasn’t ready for…

The thought makes her heart ache.

“You can talk to me if you need to.  You know that right?”  It is barely more than a whisper through her hair, and she feels Clarke shiver in her arms.

Clarke turns around slowly, facing Lexa, and brings her arms around Lexa’s neck, pressing their hips together, allowing Lexa to wrap her arms around Clarke’s back.  She meets her eyes, and Lexa can’t help but relax at the vision of clear blue before her.  They are a little sad, but her face looks more relaxed now.

Lexa can’t help it when her chest contracts slightly.  She wasn’t expecting any sadness when she woke up, from either of them.  The night had gone so well.  Amazingly.  She thought Clarke was in the same place as she was, but seeing the trace of worry makes Lexa concerned.  Not necessarily about what would happen between them, but what Clarke is feeling.  She finds the idea of Clarke in pain to be almost intolerable. 

It is a little surprising.

“I was just…letting my worries get the better of me but…it’s kind of my thing.  Sorry.  It’s stupid.  Let’s just eat right now, okay?  We can talk about it later, maybe?”  Clarke looks hopeful and scared at the same time.

Lexa doesn’t move at first.  “It’s not stupid Clarke.  Your feelings aren’t stupid, okay?”  She stares into her eyes until they meet hers, trying to will Clarke to believe the words.  Clarke finally smiles sheepishly and nods.  Momentarily satisfied, Lexa nods back.  “You’re right, though.  We should eat…but first…”

And Lexa leans in and gently kisses Clarke’s lips, softly and sweetly, before pulling back and resting her forehead against Clarke’s.  Its almost automatic, and it feels like the only thing she is able to do. 

“Good morning.”

When she opens her eyes, she feels her body relax more when she sees a smile on Clarke’s face, eyes still closed.

“Good morning.”  It’s a whisper and just the sound of Clarke’s voice makes Lexa’s skin buzz.

“I had an amazing time last night.  Like…beyond amazing.  I just thought you should know.” 

With that, Lexa slowly leans forward to give Clarke a soft peck on the cheek, before moving towards the food.  She finds two plates in the first cabinet she opens and goes about plating the eggs and bacon, and then searching for silverware.  When she turns back around, plates in hand, she sees Clarke watching her, leaning against the table.  She’s holding herself up with her hands on the table, her backside leaning against the edge, biting her lip in a way that forces Lexa look anywhere else so she doesn’t drop the food.

“Where, uh…is the table good?”

Clarke seems to realize she is blocking the way.  She clears her throat and moves to sit in a chair.  “Yeah…There’s coffee too, if you want some.”

They settle into their seats, after grabbing coffee, and as soon as Lexa takes a bite, she realizes how hungry she is. 

_I forgot how fucking amazing bacon is._

They eat in comfortable silence, meeting each other’s glances occasionally.  Lexa is happy to see that Clarke doesn’t seem as sad anymore, though she can tell her thoughts are actively churning.

She feels almost dizzy from the way the morning was going.  She wasn’t sure what she was expecting.  It was such a perfect night…such a perfect couple of weeks.  But Lexa felt that Clarke may be holding back on her about something. 

And, she honestly doesn’t mind.  She wants to know everything.  She wants all of Clarke.  She is not quite ready to explore what that means, but…she knows its true.

Clarke may be holding back but…she still lets Lexa touch her…kiss her…she still seems comfortable around her.  Lexa had come to discover that Clarke’s physical presence - her actions – seemed to convey what she was feeling more than her words, at times.  Her thoughts take some extra time to get worked out, from what she has observed.

It was odd.  Lexa felt comfortable waiting for Clarke to figure it out.  She felt content to continue reassuring her.  She couldn’t think of anything else she would rather do.  Her head and her heart seemed to be in agreement on it, and she couldn’t think of any reason to stop trying to make Clarke happy and comfortable.  To let her know that Lexa was willing to wait for whatever.  She was willing to take this roller coaster of emotion if it meant being near Clarke.

Her willingness was a little disorienting, but Lexa didn’t mind being a little disoriented for Clarke.

She picks up her last piece of bacon, before seeing that Clarke has already finished eating and is leaning back in her chair looking at Lexa again, grinning slightly.

Lexa chews her bacon, smiling, before speaking.  “Someone was hungry.” 

Clarke grins.  “Indeed.  My energy was waning.  Someone tired me out last night.”  There is a glint in Clarke’s eye, and Lexa feels her body heating up again.  She tries to refocus.

“Do you…is there anything you want to talk about?  You seemed upset before and…I hope it’s not something I did or…if you regret what…”

Clarke leans forward so suddenly that Lexa jumps.

“No! No, Lexa I don’t regret anything.  It was…it was amazing….all of it.  You are…”  The sincerity is shining through her eyes, and Lexa calms slightly, though she is still adjusting to the confused state of her body; going from concern to arousal, and back at such an early hour, was making her head spin.

“I just…I have a lot of baggage I guess.  More than I realized.” Clarke chuckles nervously at this.  “I think the fact that everything feels so…” Clarke’s face becomes pink, “so right and so easy and so…” she is searching for words.  Lexa watches as her face becomes impossibly redder and her voice lowers.  “I don’t think I expected to feel so much last night.  Like, physically or emotionally…and I have some…trust issues, I guess.  So I am still…nervous about all of it…if that makes any sense.  If feels really fast, but it freaks me out a little that it also…doesn’t.”

Lexa nods her head.  She actually understands exactly what Clarke is saying.  “I feel the same way Clarke.”

She smiles at the surprised look on Clarke’s face.  “Really?”

“Of course.  I mean…I know, logically, that its fast, but I feel like I’ve known you much longer than…what has it been?  A month?  It feels very…I don’t know…it fits.”

Clarke smiles lightly, but still has a nervous look on her face and doesn’t say anything.

“Clarke, we can go as fast or as slow as you want…though I guess, we kind of already skipped forward a little.”  She pauses, not really wanting to say the next part. “If…if you want we can hold off on being… physical again…until you work your head out…”

She feels relief when Clarke laughs.

“Lexa, I think we both know that is ridiculous.  We tried that before we had sex, and it absolutely didn’t work.  I’m not sure if I could do it now that I know how…well…it was pretty amazing wasn’t it?  Like…like really…amazing.”  She watches as Clarke face grows flirtier – bolder - despite her blush.  She can’t seem to get enough of watching Clarke being more confident the longer she knows her.  For some reason, she likes that Clarke knows what she does to her; that Clarke knows the power she has over Lexa.  She wants her to know it.

“I-I’m glad to hear that.”

Clarke continues to grin, but her tone becomes softer.  “But I do think that we should…that maybe I should tell you a little more about my past, just so that you understand.  I mean, you told me things.  Its only fair.”

“You can tell me anything, Clarke.  Whenever you're ready.”

Clarke smiles widely, looking down.  “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

Both girls startle as they are broken out of their little world by a sudden loud banging on the door. 

Clarke looks confused.  She looks at her phone and mumbles to herself.  “It’s only 10…Octavia isn’t supposed to be here until noon.”  She gets up and walks to the door to look through the peep hole, before gasping loudly.  She quickly whips the door open.

“Hey bitch!  Surprise!”

“Raven!  What the fuck are you doing here?  You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow!  I was going to pick you up from the airport...”

Lexa watches in amusement as she sees Raven dive through the door and cover a thoroughly confused Clarke in a giant hug, continuing to talk through a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I think I was experiencing some sort of manic episode brought on by all the excitement.  Plus, I didn’t trust my movers with all my shit, so I decided to go with them on a road trip, instead of flying!  Ended up getting here faster than I thought because they let me drive a little, and had I some fun as well.”  She sees Raven wink.

Clarke pulls back and gives Raven an incredulous look.  “Did you hook up with one of your movers?!  Raven, you didn’t!  Seriously?”

Raven is cackling with laughter.  “No!  God Clarke, give me a little credit.  But they did have some excellent weed, and I turned on the charm, tinkered with their truck a little, so I feel a little better about them moving all my stuff tomorrow.  You don’t fix a man’s car without being in his debt.  Plus, I talked the leasing office in the new place into letting us start to move our stuff in today so we don’t have to wait until tomorrow and…oh...hey there Lexa…”  Raven sees Lexa over Clarke’s shoulder and saunters past the blonde, shoving her lightly out of the way, with an amused smirk on her face. 

“Clarke, I didn’t realize you had company for…”she looks back and forth between the two of them, studying their state of dress, “breakfast.”

“Oh…yeah, well…”

 Lexa smirks, watching Clarke squirm, knowing she has no idea what to say.  She offers something that isn’t necessarily a lie…

“I was going to help Clarke pack a little today.” 

“And you slept over, right?”  Raven looks like it is Christmas morning and she has just found her presents under the tree.

“I…”

Clarke walks to Raven, and grabs her by the arm.  “Ray, why don’t you call Octavia up and let her know the news.  Take my car” she hands her the keys, “and go get her.  You guys make a plan.  We’ll get ready and you come back and pick us up, okay?”  She is all but shoving Raven out the door, but Raven is still grinning ear-to-ear.

“Yeah, yeah, Princess.  You know very well that you are the boss between the three of us, and our plan will involve pizza and beer…but I guess I’ll get out of your hair for the moment.  See you soon Princess!  You too Sexy Lexy!”

Clarke slams the door in Raven’s face as she is yelling through it.  She turns back towards Lexa.  “Sorry about that.  She wasn’t supposed to get here until tomorrow…though, I guess I’m not particularly surprised.  This is exactly something she would do.”  Clarke looks flustered and sheepish, though she chuckles at her friends antics.

“It’s okay, Clarke.  She didn’t have to go, you know?  I could have given you guys some space.  I should get dressed any way and…” Lexa stands tries to walk to the bedroom door, feeling guilty that her presence cut short their reunion, but is stopped by Clarke’s hand on her arm.

She turns to see the end of an eye roll and a smirk from Clarke.  “Lexa, wait.  I wanted to…to be alone with you for a little bit longer.  I just…”  She steps closer, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck again.  Lexa can’t help but smile.  “I’m sorry.”

Lexa lets her hands rest on Clarke’s hips, squeezing her closer.  “For what?”

“For…for…” Clarke looks guilty and presses her forehead against Lexa’s again.  Lexa feels her eyes close at the contact, becoming unbelievably content at the growing familiarity of the gesture.  “For not staying in bed.  For letting you wake up alone after such an incredible night.  For being…so crazy.  I just…I guess I’m a little scared, but…I will get through it.  I want to.  You’re…you make me feel so…”

Lexa opens her eyes and sees that Clarke’s eyes are closed, a struggling look fixed on her furrowed brow.

“Hey, it’s okay Clarke.  I’m not going anywhere.  _We_ will get through it.  Okay?”  Clarke opens her eyes and looks back.

“Okay.”  They stare at each other for a moment, before Clarke surprises her with a kiss, sliding her hand to the back of Lexa’s neck, pulling her close.  Lexa gets a little lost in it, and feels her chest explode with warmth.  It is indescribable to be kissing Clarke.  To be kissed _by_ Clarke.  She doesn’t think she could ever get tired of it.  It is unlike anything she has ever experienced.

Their lips melt together, their tongues gently explore and soothe, as their teeth nibble and graze.  Lexa could do this for hours; for days; she could keep kissing Clarke forever.

There is the pesky requirement of breathing though…

They pull apart and Clarke smiles, her eyelids heavy.  They are both breathing heavily, and Lexa wants so much to keep doing what they are doing, but Clarke speaks.

“So do you really want to help me pack?  Because you don’t have to…”

“Of course.”  Lexa finds herself almost eager to help, and she is once again struck by how strange that is.

“Well…we should probably get changed and start then…”  Clarke looks reluctant to pull away.  “Raven and Octavia will never let me hear the end of it if I forget to pack because I am making out with my gir…”  Clarke stutters, and turns beet red.  “With a girl.  I mean anyone.  Making out with anyone.”

Lexa smiles, feeling her own blush.  She wouldn’t mind being Clarke’s girlfriend, but she decides to let the topic drop for now, wanting Clarke to be sure.

She gently extends her arms straight out in front of her, pushing Clarke arm’s length away from her in the process, a faux somber look on her face.  “That’s probably a good idea.”  She pulls her hands back down to her sides.

“Do you think I could borrow some clothes?  I only have what I wore last night…and this…”

Clarke looks down for a moment towards Lexa’s legs, biting her lip, and Lexa feels their resolve crumbling. 

“Seriously, Lex…you are making this really difficult."  She sighs, walking to her bedroom.  Lexa starts to follow her, but Clarke holds her hand up, and grins.  "Stay here.  Please…”

Clarke’s eyes are pleading and she knows what Clarke is thinking.  She isn't sure if she could keep from getting sidetracked near the bed.  Not with Clarke dressed like that.

Lexa just nods her head, and lets a goofy smile cover her face, as she watches Clarke retreat.

When Clarke reappears a few minutes later, she is in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair is up in a bun, and she looks a little more awake and alert.  Lexa sees her look briefly down at Lexa’s legs again, but she quickly looks away with a flustered blush running up her neck.

“Okay, I put some options on the bed.” 

Lexa nods, and walks towards the door, before being pulled back by Clarke suddenly.  Clarke pulls her flush to her body and roams her hand down over the back of Lexa’s thigh, before husking in her ear, “I really like you in this shirt."

Lexa trembles all over in surprise.  The feel of Clarke’s hand running up her thigh and resting on her ass, along with the sound of her voice so close to her ear has Lexa ready to say ‘fuck it’ and forget about packing entirely.

They stay like that for a moment, before Lexa is able to gather herself, swallowing thickly.  “Clarke.  If you don’t let me change, I cannot be held accountable for what happens.”

Clarke sighs deeply and pulls away gently.  “Just trying to make sure I remember.  For my packing breaks.”  She smiles with a wink, and Lexa can’t help the giggle that escapes her as she turns to enter the bedroom.

Maybe Clarke hasn’t figured things out yet, but Lexa is more than willing to wear this shirt, every day for eternity if that is how Clarke reacts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments always welcome...I would love to know if there is anything you guys like or don't about this...


	15. Getting it all out there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The move is final, and Clarke finally tells her story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know its a short chapter, but I am a frenzy of anxiety at the moment, so I wanted to post something. 
> 
> Sorry, hope its okay.

Clarke is seated on the floor, legs splayed out before her, her back resting against Raven’s leather sofa that is now situated in their new apartment. 

Boxes are stacked everywhere and on everything, including the sofa.  Unwilling to move anything at the moment, Raven, Octavia and Clarke have opted for the floor, exhausted from moving all of their possessions for the last two days.  Raven is on her knees, searching for suitable music on the laptop that is sitting on the only uncovered edge of the coffee table.  Octavia is spread out on her back on the rug, which is laying askew on the wooden floors of the spacious room.

Clarke thinks, for a moment, that maybe they should have taken more care to organize the boxes and the furniture that they had brought in, but the thought leaves her quickly when she thinks about doing any further work.

_God, I don’t want to move._

Raven had insisted that they celebrate with tequila, and after only one shot a piece, exhaustion and alcohol had conspired to make each of them slightly tipsy, very silly, and unable to move much.

“This place is, like…really fucking nice.”  Octavia’s had been voicing her amazement since she stepped foot in the apartment.  Clarke watched, an amused grin in place, as Octavia’s glassy eyes wandered along the vaulted ceilings.  She shifted her body around on the floor to take in the space of the room.  Her hazel eyes roamed across the wooden floors, settling on the large window that opened into an impressive view of the city. 

“Raven…are you filthy rich?”

Clarke giggled.  At the moment, Octavia was bringing back middle school memories; slumber parties, silly giggles, resisting sleep, telling loopy ghost stories through the darkness of a pillow fort.  She watched Octavia flop her knees side to side, lazily, as she looks at Raven from an upside down view on the floor.

Raven finally settles on some music, before turning and sitting, settling her hands behind her on the floor.  She lest a relaxed smile settle on her features, and looks toward the loopy girl on the carpet.

“I am filthy” she winks, “but not necessarily rich.  I do okay.”  She smirks, and Clarke can tell she is fighting her instinct to brag. 

But she also knows that, despite all of her cockiness, Raven could never bring herself to boast about money.  Raven grew up scraping by and, while Clarke knows she is proud of herself for becoming successful (very successful, from what Clarke had gleaned), she also knows there is a specific humbleness about Raven that she would never be able to shake.  It’s one of the things Clarke loves about her.

Octavia is still fascinated.  “I’d say this is more than okay.”  She holds her arms towards the ceiling, before letting them flop down at her sides again.  “I was renting a room from a 60 year old woman with 4 cats.  It always smelled like eggs and kitty litter.  This place is a palace, in comparison.”

Raven just chuckles, and pushes at Octavia’s knee with her foot.  “Well, it’s your palace now, my queen!”

Octavia giggles, and it seems to distract her enough to stop questioning Raven’s financial status.

Clarke had tried to talk Raven into getting a more reasonably priced, smaller apartment, but Raven would hear none of it, insisting that Clarke and Octavia pay what they could, for now.  She had other excuses, too:

_“My Company gets me discount rent in certain areas.”_

_“I have to have a place with a garage.  The machinery, Clarke.  Think about the machinary.”_

_“I’m definitely taking the master bedroom!  No way am I sharing a bathroom!”_

But Clarke also knew that Raven wanted them there.  For such an independent person, Raven always preferred having people live with her.  Like Clarke, she got more self-destructive when she lived alone.  If it had been anyone else, Clarke would have been nervous about the eventual drama that the financial disparity could cause, but she knew Raven would never allow it to get to that point.

They sit in exhausted silence for a few moments, enjoying the soft music, taking in the room; adjusting to the reality that they lived here now.

Clarke, still in a faint haze of exhaustion, voiced the first coherent thought that came to her mind.

“I think, collectively, we have too much shit.” 

Clarke was amazed at how many boxes were piled up, and was extremely grateful that Lexa, Lincoln, Bellamy and the movers had helped them move all of the larger stuff yesterday.  Today, though, it had been just the three of them.  Lexa, Lincoln, and Bellamy all had work, and Lexa had, apparently, procrastinated on several assignments over the last few days.  Thinking that she had done so for Clarke made Clarke's belly flutter for a moment, but she pushed past it.  Between the three roommates, all of the smaller items had added up quickly. 

Raven chuckles.  “I would agree, Princess.  But we did it!  We are officially moved in!”  Raven smiles and holds her hands up high in the air for a moment, before letting them fall back to the floor, with a thud, just as Octavia had done before.

Octavia lets out a relieved, and loud, groan from the floor.  “Thank god!  Let’s drink to that!”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but can’t rid herself of the smile on her face.

“Here, here!”  Raven grabs the bottle and the three shot glasses they had been using.  She sets the glasses between the three of them, and waits for everyone to situate themselves in a sitting position, before pouring the shots.  When she’s done, each of them reaches for a shot and holds it in the air, waiting.  They look around questioning.

“To…?  To…” Clarke tries to think of something to toast to, but is drawing a blank.

“To our new palace!  May we live like the royalty that we are!”  Octavia says it through giggles, and Clarke smiles fondly as she is, once again, reminded of the Octavia of her youth. 

“To the kickass housewarming party we are going to have!”  Raven smirks, a glint in her eye.

“To being home.” 

Clarke smirks through it, trying to keep from getting too sentimental, but she can see the genuine smiles on Octavia and Raven’s faces at her words.

“I can drink to that Princess.”  And they all tap their glasses on the ground, before downing the contents with groans and sputters.

* * *

 

As Lexa walks from her car to the gym, she can’t help the fluttering in her stomach when she sees a familiar blonde figure waiting for her next to the door.  She had been hoping she would be here, but she had also tried not to get her hopes up.

She notices that Clarke isn’t wearing her usual workout attire, instead donning a pair of ripped jeans, and a loose fitting grey sweater, much like she had on the first day she brought Lexa coffee.  Her hair is in a messy bun and her head is leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

“Excuse me miss, no loitering.  This place is for gym patrons only.”

She watches as Clarke smiles, with her eyes still closed, before slowly bringing her head down and meeting Lexa’s gaze.  She sees a soft confusion cover her features.

“Hey…where is your uniform?”

“Oh, I actually had the morning off…” she slows her steps when she gets closer, noticing the tired look in Clarke’s eyes, which is totally secondary to the smile she gives Lexa, that outshines everything else on her face.  She feels caught between embarrassment and giddiness.

“Well…why are you here then?  Not that I’m not happy to see you…”  Clarke hands Lexa her coffee and steps closer.  Her eyes are curious and sparkling, as her body seems to automatically lean in.

“Well, I…I thought you might be here and…I wanted to see you.  I missed you yesterday.”  She quickly continues, watching Clarke blush, before looking down.  She still wasn't sure where they stood, after everything on Saturday.  “How did the rest of the moving go?”

Clarke smiles, shrugging slightly.  “It was okay.  Exhausting.  And then Raven insisted on celebrating with tequila.  If I hadn’t insisted on going to bed so early, I may not have made it this morning. ”

“Well, I am glad you did.”  Lexa steps a little closer, lowering her voice.  “Do you maybe want to get some breakfast with me?  Soak up some of that residual tequila?”

Clarke smiles gently and raises her arm to Lexa’s elbow, running her fingers over her skin lightly, making Lexa melt at the intimacy of the touch.  “That sounds lovely, but…do you think I might get a kiss first?”

Lexa beams at her.  “You don’t have to ask, you know?”

“Well, in that case…” she pulls gently at the front of Lexa’s shirt and presses their lips together in a soft kiss.  Lexa melts into it and pulls the hand that is not holding her coffee up to press against the small of Clarke’s back, pulling her in closer. 

They kiss for a moment, and it is easy for Lexa to push away all of her concerns from Saturday morning.  She hadn’t been able to see the girl since then, and with all the packing and moving, it was a day full of distractions and exhaustions.  They had never had the chance to talk, properly.  All day Sunday, Lexa had been restless and struggling to focus on work and papers, recognizing that part of her mind was dreading the moment that Clarke would tell her that it was all a mistake; that she wasn’t ready for any of this. 

But seeing Clarke here…kissing her like it was an everyday occurrence…it calmed Lexa. 

She pulls away gently at the sound of Clarke’s stomach grumbling, and chuckles.  “Let’s get you some food.”

They drive to a diner down the street, as Clarke tells her about the move and the new apartment.  Lexa enjoys watching her talk; feels a small pang of regret that she had to work and write papers yesterday.  Clarke seems truly excited about her new place, and the prospect of living with Octavia and Raven.

When they reach the diner and get a booth, they settle in and order.  Clarke is smiling at her, but she has also begun to noticeably fidget in her seat, looking nervous, like she wants to say something, but isn’t sure how to start.

“You okay?”  Lexa can’t help but smirk and how adorable she looks.

“I…do you think we could talk now?  You know, about Saturday morning…is it too early for this?”

Lexa is surprised by the suggestion.  “I mean…it’s up to you Clarke.  Maybe we should eat first?  I told you, I’m in no rush.”  She reaches across and places her hand over Clarke’s, which seems to calm the blonde slightly.

“Yeah, I know…it’s just…once I decide on something, it’s hard for me to relax until I do it, you know?  I have all these words and I’ve been thinking about them, and I’m afraid I’ll forget how to say things if I don’t get them out.”

Lexa smiles, and can’t help thinking about how adorable Clarke looks as a pink tinge spreads up her neck and tinges the tips of her ears.

“I’m all ears Clarke.  If you want to talk, I will listen.”  Clarke gives her a small smile that shines through her eyes and makes Lexa’s heart beat faster in her chest.

“Okay well…”

As if on cue, the waitress brings over their food.  They each pull their hands away and Lexa misses the contact, but she can’t help but notice that it might have been the right choice.  Clarke closes her eyes and breathes, opening them again to look down at her hands as the waitress leaves, as if reassuring herself.

Instead of speaking, though, Clarke begins to eat, humming in approval at the taste of her food.

Lexa digs into her own plate, keeping her eyes on Clarke, watching her eat contentedly as she wiggles in enjoyment in her seat.  Lexa thinks it’s adorable and lets a breath of amusement through her nose, trying not to choke on her food.

Clarke looks up through a smile as she swallows the food in her mouth.

“What are you laughing at?”  She cocks her eyebrow, but her eyes are still shining brightly.

“You’re just cute, is all.”  Lexa shrugs, and they eat, smiling at each other, enjoying the comfortable silence.

As they finish their food, Clarke leans her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand, watching Lexa.

Lexa just looks back, only cocking her eyebrow to show her curiosity.

“It was never like this with him.”

Lexa isn’t sure what to say, but she thinks she understands where Clarke is going, so she stays silent, to see if she’ll continue.

“With Finn.  He is…was my ex.”  Clarke looks down at her empty plate, and runs her knife through a small puddle of syrup, watching as the white of the plate that appears is covered by syrup once more. 

“Raven introduced us at the beginning of my sophomore year.  She knew him when they were kids and…I guess they had a falling out at some point, because they weren’t particularly close but…well, Raven always loved her weed, and Finn always had the good stuff.”

Clarke smiles at this, her eyes far away, before her gaze drops slightly.  “Raven told me to be careful…that he had…some issues.  But, we still became sort of…friends.  It was easy to be around him pretty quickly.  Kind of like it is with you.  It was just…felt simple.”

The comparison makes Lexa nervous, but she tries to hide it.  She knows that is part of what Clarke is struggling with.  She keeps her eyes on Clarke, listening intently.

“But he…with him…well, it was really good at first, too.”  She isn’t looking at Lexa now, watching the progress of her knife, back and forth through the syrup, lost in memories or thoughts…Lexa isn’t sure which.  Maybe both.

“He was sweet.  He would give me little compliments.  He would tell me I was pretty, or sexy…but…in a way that he would…he made it seem like he saw something that no one else did…or could.  I guess I should have…caught on then….”

Clarke pauses for a moment, furrowing her brow, but continues quickly.

“And he made me laugh.  We never really talked about anything very deep.  He knew my father had died, and I knew that he had experienced some pretty bad things when he was younger, but, with him, I could just forget about it.  We forgot about it together.  And…well, he was into some harder stuff.  It wasn’t really my thing, but…I tried some stuff.  I did some things that I kind of wish I hadn’t, but…with him, it was all about feeling good.  It was all about…just experiencing.  Feeling things.”

Clarke looks at Lexa again, and she looks so small and vulnerable.  Lexa wants to take her hand again, but Clarke has one on the knife that she is still fiddling with, and the other securely in her lap.

“We got pretty hot and heavy pretty fast.  I started spending most of my free time with him and skipped the occasional class.  At first, it wasn’t really causing me any problems, except that Raven wasn’t a huge fan of the whole thing.  She actually tried to talk to me about it, and mentioned that I was…starting to act like him.  She threw some insults around, and I defended him and ran out…but that was when I started to notice it.”

Clarke’s brow furrows, and she is looking at the table again.

“I started to notice how he would kind of…guilt me into missing more and more class.  I was always serious about school, but…for him….And he would make me feel like shit if I ever wanted to hang out with my friends.  And when he hung out with us, he would get annoyed when I wouldn’t talk to him the whole time.  He would even push me into trying other drugs, telling me that it was sexy to watch me feel good, or that he just wanted to experience it with me.  He was never really bothered if I felt uncomfortable about it.  And it all seemed normal to me.  I liked being wanted.  I felt good for once.  I didn’t even realize it, when it morphed into something else.  I was still in pain from losing my dad and so the shitty feeling I started having about myself all the time seemed to…kind of fit, I guess.

“It wasn’t until he started getting really jealous that I snapped out of it.  He was always really passive aggressive, but when he started looking through my phone, accusing me of cheating with group partners from class and friends, he started to get more physical.  He threw stuff, punched walls, broke some things…and he would always apologize.  Be really over the top about it.  He would tell me that he was sorry, and that he would change.  That it would be different.  But it never was.”

Lexa could feel her jaw clenching.  She felt like lead was setting in her stomach and there was a bubbling in her chest.  Not just at the thought of all of the things that this guy had done, but at the term _jealous._   _She_ had gotten jealous.  _She_ had been blind with it.  _She_ had apologized.

She understood, now, why Clarke was so reticent.  She didn’t blame her.  Her chest burned at the thought.  Guilt bubbled in her stomach.  She would never do anything to hurt Clarke, but the idea that Clarke thought of her like that, even for a second, was painful to think about.

Clarke seemed to see her reaction, and assumed it was anger about Finn.  “He never touched me or anything.  I think that would have made it too difficult for him to deny.  I really don’t think he realized how much he was hurting me.  Not that it is an excuse.”  Clarke seems to get flustered at herself.  Lexa sees an eye roll, and senses that Clarke has had this discussion with herself before.  “It’s not.  He was an asshole, and there is no excuse for the things he did…for the way he made me feel…but…he was fucked up, too.  He grew up around manipulative people and became manipulative himself.”

Lexa watched Clarke’s face carefully.  Her expression flitted quickly from anger, to sadness, to confusion and back again.  She could tell that Clarke struggled with how she felt about Finn, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

Lexa didn't struggle.  She hated him.  She hated all the things he had done.  She hated how he had made Clarke feel.  She had never felt such hatred for anyone before.  She felt a furious need to find him and cause him pain.

“Anyway…eventually I ended things.  He, of course, refused at first.  Told me that we were meant to be together…that I would never find anyone else that could love me like he could.  And of course, I was an idiot, and it took a few times for the break up to stick…but eventually it did.  I was…kind of lost after that.  Back to where I was after my dad died, only worse.  If I didn’t have Raven…if she hadn’t been willing to be my friend through all of it…I don’t know what I would have done.  She was my family.  She made sure he stayed away…even punched him in the face once.” 

Clarke snorted and Lexa was so surprised at the noise that she let a grin break through.  _How can she laugh, after all of that?_

Lexa felt some of her anger dissipate as her affection for Clarke grew.

“Lexa.”  Clarke’s eyes catch her own, and there is a pain there that Lexa has never understood until now.  “I like you.  I like you a lot, actually.  More than I have ever liked anyone.  But I…” her eyes falter, looking at the table for a moment, before reaching Lexa’s again.  “This is really difficult for me.  I…it took me a long time to…like myself.  To be okay by myself again.  I haven’t had very many relationships…or like, any…including friendships…in a really long time, and I am not even really sure if I...if I think they are worth it anymore.  It’s really hard for me to trust people.”

“I get it Clarke.”  Lexa isn’t sure what else to say, but she wants Clarke to know that she understands.  Or that she's trying to.  That she doesn’t want to push her.  That she wishes she could take back all of her mistakes…

“I’m so sorry…for that time at the Drop Ship….I didn’t….I would never have…”  Lexa can feel tears forming and she has to look down.  _This isn’t about you, you asshole!_

“Hey, Lexa.”  She feels a warm hand wrap around her own.  “We’ve already discussed this.  Trust me, it’s not the same thing.  I mean, at the time, it brought up some old feelings but…I _tried_ to make you jealous and…I actually do trust you.”  Clarke seems a little surprised at her own words.  “I haven’t really wanted to trust anyone for a long time…but I do trust you.  I’m just…I guess I’m afraid of becoming too attached…I know that sounds ridiculous but…”  Clarke pauses, taking a deep breath, before speaking again.  “Finn died.”

_Oh._

“Oh.”  She doesn’t know how to react to this.  She wasn’t expecting it.  Clarke seems just as surprised that she said it.

“I…its…it’s not very easy to explain.  How I felt about it.  How I still feel about it.  How it made things more…complicated.  But…it’s not just that I don’t trust people.  I’m just scared.  It doesn’t matter if it’s the greatest person in the world, like my dad, or a jackass like Finn.  Losing people is so…awful.  I’m scared that I…that I will never not be scared.”

Lexa just watches Clarke watch her.  The blonde looks small and tired suddenly.  They don’t say anything for a while.  Lexa isn’t sure what she can say. 

“I want to be less scared, though.”  It’s spoken softly and Clarke is looking more hopeful than she had all morning.  “I always saw myself as being…smart…you know, for staying away from people.  But with you…it’s scary but…it’s also…” Clarke is looking thoughtful again, trying to find words.

“You are special, Lexa.  You make me feel…stronger.  Braver.  Like…like maybe I can actually do this.”

Lexa’s stomach flutters as she watches an embarrassed flush cover Clarke’s face at her words.  They stare at each other again.  Lexa doesn’t know what to say, but she is happy.  Something feels that it has eased.  But it also feels like there is more at stake.  Lexa has a moment of swirling, frantic emotion.  She glances at her phone, and back at Clarke.

“What are you doing for the rest of the day?”


	16. These two need to get their shit together

Lexa watched the small point of red light as it jumped across the projector screen.  Its purpose was to focus the attention of the students to whatever aspect of human anatomy the professor was currently discussing, but Lexa was not taking in any meaning of the words that she was hearing.  It was just sound, echoing through a room that was lit only by the white light of the projector.  She knew she should focus.  Normally, it wasn’t an issue.  Normally she was near the front of the class, leaned over her notes, hanging on every word and scribbling furiously.  Today, she was in the back row, reclining slightly, blankly staring up at the screen. She didn't feel normal anymore.

And she couldn’t will herself to care.

Not that she wasn’t focused.  She was.  Only it was on something else.  Someone else.  Someone she hadn’t spoken to in months. 

She understood.                             

 _Sort of._  

She wasn’t mad.

 _Maybe a little._  

She wasn’t even hurt. 

_Blatant lie._

But she was beginning to worry.  Worry that she’d messed up.  Worry that something very precious had slipped through her fingers.

And all these feelings were mixing with a growing anger, an encroaching despair, and a familiar instinct to harden herself to all of it.  To push it all down and feel nothing.

Only she couldn’t really make that happen.  Not with her.

Not with Clarke.

And she was frustrated that she had broken her rules for nothing.  That maybe she had been right all along.  Right to keep her distance.  Right to stay focused on herself and nothing else.  Because now, she couldn’t go back _._

_And wasn’t it easier then?  Without feeling?  Wasn’t it better?_

There was not conviction in that thought.  She knew she would never take back the time she had with Clarke.

It had been going so well.

And it never went badly…not really.  It changed, though, that morning.  When she spent the day with Clarke.  Something shifted.  Something Lexa had no control over.

 

_They left the diner, and climbed into Lexa’s car.  The ride over had been quiet.  Not uncomfortably so, but silent, nonetheless.  Lexa watched Clarke in her periphery, as blue eyes stared out the window.  She could tell Clarke had been affected by telling her story.  By bringing up Finn.  But Lexa tried to focus on the warm hand in her own, which was still gently running a thumb over the back of her own hand every few moments.  As they pulled up to their destination, she could see Clarke’s brow furrow in confusion, trying to figure out where they were.  The scene outside the car was much like any other in the city: a large parking lot, not too far from a few office buildings, a small shopping center across the street, and, at the back of the large concrete lot, a wall of greenery that looked like it separated some sort of private property.    She squeezed the blonde’s hand lightly._

_“Come on.”  She sent a small smile to the girl that Clarke returned with a nod._

_As they exited the car and made their way towards their goal, Lexa was grateful for the early hour.  It was only just now 10 in the morning, and there were very few people around.  It felt, for a moment, like the city belonged to them.  That it was made for them._

_Hands entwined, they made their way towards the wall of shrubbery.  It was set far apart from the street, so that the sound of cars wasn't overpowering.  Lexa led Clarke off to the side, to a break in the greenery that was almost hidden, and Clarke’s steps slowed as they passed through the opening.  Lexa watched her take in the scenery._

_There were trees and tall bushes filling the space in front of them. It was a peaceful area, surrounded by the wall of greenery, blocking it off from the rest of the concrete city.  It was all but hidden from view a few minutes before.  The sun, which was blinding at this time of day in the parking lot, was gently slipping through the canopy of trees here, causing the light to change from a blinding white to a gentle yellow._

_The path that they were on split ahead of them and wound out of sight in several directions behind more trees and garden walls made of thick, well sculpted bushes, interspersed with occasional structures of varying sizes, shapes and colors.  It seemed like a different place entirely from where they were moments before.  Lexa heard Clarke gasp quietly as she laid eyes on a large sculpture off to their right.  Lexa let herself be pulled towards it, smiling at the way that Clarke’s feet seemed to carry her without thought._

_As they stopped in front of the piece, she let Clarke take it in for a moment, before speaking._

_“This whole area is a sculpture garden.  It’s about a square mile.  I…I thought you might like it.  It’s…its peaceful.  I come here sometimes to just…relax. I don’t always get the art, but…I like to look.”_

_She shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what else to say.  Clarke’s eyes on her made her suddenly nervous._

_The corners of Clarke’s mouth upturned just slightly, but her eyes were shining brightly at Lexa, swimming with affection as Lexa watched them search her face._

_“I do.  I do like it.  Very much.”  She felt those bright blue eyes on her for a moment more, before they were turned back to the sculpture in front of them, becoming intense and focused almost immediately.  “I love sculptures.  When I was little, it used to seem almost mystical that anyone could create anything like that.  It’s so…real.  So physical and, I don’t know, dimensional, I guess.  I get such a different feeling from this kind of art.”  Clarke was still running her eyes over the dark, matte texture of the structure.  Parts of it had sharp corners, while others were rounded.  Lexa knew very little about art, but she thought it looked vaguely human, but not quite.  She could see why Clarke was so intrigued.  It was an interesting figure._

_“My dad used to bring me here when I was little because there was one thing that a kid could appreciate much more about this than most of the art in the museum.”_

_“And what is that?”  Clarke’s playful grin caused a warmth behind Lexa’s ribs._

_“You can touch it,” she said simply._

_She stepped forward and reached a hand out to press against the material of the sculpture, before bringing Clarke’s hand, which was still wrapped in her own, against it as well._

_Clarke let out a small chuckle and Lexa delighted in the excitement on her face.  “It’s wood!  There's a sealant, but...wood!  I thought for sure it was stone or metal, being outside…and so smooth, but…” her sentence was never finished and Lexa smiled as Clarke put both hands on the piece and began to run them over the curves and edges.  She stepped back a little and watched Clarke take it all in.  She ran her fingers along the edges and curves, slowly and with purpose, occasionally pressing her palms in, feeling with her whole hand.  Lexa loved watching, and was only a little jealous of the sculpture._

_After that piece, they walked further into the garden, stopping at every structure they came across.  Clarke examined each one, usually without speaking, always with her hands.  They chatted lightly as they walked at first, but as they made their way through the trees, Lexa could see Clarke turning inward.  She didn’t seem sad, but she did seem to be thinking quite a bit.  Her brow furrowed slightly, even when she smiled at Lexa._

_They had walked for at least an hour or two, fairly aimlessly, but trying to hit every piece they could find.  Lexa spent most of that time examining Clarke.  She was captivated entirely by the girl.  Even more than usual.  She could see her face flush with what appeared to be excitement at every new sculpture: her cheeks were slightly pink; her eyes had become more and more wide and blazing with each one they came across; she walked just a little bit lighter on her feet and stood a little taller.  Lexa felt like she would never get tired of seeing Clarke move through the world like this; in her element, reacting to things so physically; taking things in with her expressive eyes and her gentle hands.  It made her content to watch her and try to figure out what she was thinking._

_As they came within sight of the stone building that was the art museum, they found their way to a bench._

_As they sat, Lexa automatically reached out for Clarke’s hand.  She watched as Clarke, who had been lost in thought, slowly turned her eyes on their joined hands and smiled with one side of her mouth, before looking up to meet Lexa’s eyes._

_“Thank you for bringing me here, Lexa.”_

_“Of course Clarke.”  She paused before saying the next part.  “Thank you for sharing so much of yourself with me.  I…you are…”_ get your shit together, Lex.  _“You are wonderful.”_ You are wonderful?  Great, real original.

_Despite her inner ramblings, Clarke gave her a bright smile.  To Lexa’s surprise and dismay, however, a sad look cover Clarke’s face._

_“Lex…I feel like…”  She huffed, crinkling the skin between her eyebrows further, before continuing.  “You are amazing and…I am…it’s…”  Lexa watched as Clarke closed her eyes and took in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.  When she opened them, she looked directly into Lexa’s.  “I need to take care of myself.”_

_It didn’t sound like the bad news like she was expecting.  Just a stated fact._

_“Okay.  Of course you do.  You should always take care of yourself, Clarke.”_

_Lexa wasn’t sure where Clarke was going with this, so she stopped talking and waited for her to continue.  After a few moments of intense staring on Clarke’s part, and increasing anxiety on Lexa’s, she finally heard her speak again._

_“I know we talked about taking things slow.  And I know…” Lexa heard Clarke chuckle sweetly before continuing, “I know we are not great at following through with that.  And it is actually kind of fucking awesome.”  They both let out nervous laughter at that._

_“But I…some things are becoming clear to me lately.  And I don’t know if it’s you, or talking about some of the shit that has happened, or this place or, or Raven and Octavia being back in my life or…even working out seems to be changing things…it’s probably some combination of all of it, but…I need to take care of some things.  For me.  For my life and my future and just…for my head.  And my heart.”  She watches as Clarke rolls her eyes lightly, apparently at her own words._

_Normally the action would make her giggle.  Or her heart flutter.  But she is panicking a little bit.  Maybe more than a little bit._

_“So…what does that mean?  I mean…for…for this?  For us?  What are you saying exactly?”_

_Clarke looks at her, guilt written all over her face._

_“I’m not going to ask you to, you know…wait for me or whatever….”_

_Lexa’s heart gives an uncomfortable pang. She just barely keeps herself from freaking out on the outside.  Inside, it’s already happening._

_“…but I think I need to take a little time.  To figure some things out.  And it’s not….”_

_She feels Clarke’s grip tighten on her hand as she watches her turn to face Lexa more squarely._

_“When I am with you, I don’t want to be anywhere else, or doing anything else.  Everything fades away and I get a little lost.  In you. In,” she waves her hand back and forth between them, “in this.  It’s kind of amazing but….I don’t want to get lost again.  I want to know that I can go forward with you and not lose myself in you. Because I have done that before and it…to be honest, it almost killed me. And I think just knowing you has actually gotten me closer to being myself than I have ever been, but…I need to figure out what I am doing, to be…to be good for you…Does that make any sense at all?”_

_Lexa breathes deeply.  Her chest is aching but also, begrudgingly, she understands.  She hates that she understands.  She nods slowly, staring at their hands, willing away the hot tears she feels forming in her eyes._

_“Hey!  Hey, Lex,” she releases a breath when she feels Clarke’s hand gently cup her cheek and wipe a rogue tear away.  She lets her chin be guided upwards and meets deep, watery, blue eyes.  “I want you.”  She says it with such conviction, Lexa cannot help but believe her and it makes the pressure in her chest dissipate slightly, just for a second.  “I just want to be the whole, complete version of myself for you.  And I think I need to do that alone.  Just for a few weeks…to think about some things and figure some stuff out.”_

_Lexa wanted to ask her what she was figuring out; what she had to think about; why she had to do it alone…part of her wanted to rage and to insist she figure it out_ with _Lexa, not apart from her.  But she knew that if she spoke, she might break down, and she could not do that.  She wanted to support Clarke,  and she would.  But if this was really happening, part of her refused to expose herself; to be weak._

_So she snuffed her nose and shook her head lightly, sitting up a little straighter as she did so.  She knew she had put a light version of her emotional mask back on her face, but she needed it right now.  When she spoke, her voice was much stronger than she felt.  And much less emotional._

_“I understand Clarke.”  Part of her did.  Part of her didn’t at all. “Take care of yourself.”_

_She could see uncertainty, possibly a little hurt, in Clarke’s eyes at her shift in demeanor, but she tried to keep her eyes soft.  She wanted to tell Clarke that she would wait; that she was crazy about her and that she wanted great things for her; that she wanted to give her all those things.  But she could only try to convey it with her eyes.  The ache in her chest seemed to activate some sort of defense system within the rest of her body.  She gently pulled her hands back into her own lap._

_Clarke nodded, looking like she wanted to say more, but instead she swooped forward, placed a gentle kiss on Lexa’s cheek, and leaned towards her ear._

_“I’ll talk to you soon.  I promise.”_

_Lexa closed her eyes as she felt Clarke swiftly stand and walk away.  She opened them a few seconds later, just in time to see Clarke looking back at her as she rounded a corner in the path and was gone._

It had all been so sudden.

Sort of.

Not really.

She knew Clarke was sad sometimes.  She saw when she would get that look in her eye, like she was lost in a thought or a feeling, and drowning in it.  She understood that Clarke needed to do what was right for her.  But she missed her.  She missed her more than she thought possible.  And it had been so long.

Clark had said a few weeks.  She had promised she would talk to her _soon._

She lied.

It had been almost 3 months.  3 months without seeing her at the gym.  3 months without hearing her raspy voice, or seeing her bright smile.  3 months without her blue eyes or her soft skin.

Lexa had been handling well it at first.  The holidays were difficult, but she had finals and time with her little family to distract her.  Thankfully, despite the fact that Lincoln was still seeing Octavia, they had mostly avoided hanging out around Lexa, so she wasn’t reminded of Clarke too often.  Not that it meant she still didn’t think about her all the time.  And Anya, in typical Anya fashion, had taken up arms against Clarke…verbally, anyway.  She threw out casual insults constantly.  Defending Lexa, without Lexa ever asking her to.  Lexa knew she was trying to help, and she defended Clarke at first, but after a while, she started to enjoy it a little.  Felt validated, in some way.

She thought the new semester would help distract her.  It was her last one and it was a big deal.  But Lexa discovered that, thanks to her over-the-top dedication all the semesters before and the fact that her internship was her job, it was mostly smooth sailing so far.  Unfortunately.

Lexa spent most of her free time thinking about Clarke.  While her first month was spent in resigned acceptance, it morphed quickly after that, into despair, anxiety and, more recently, anger.  It wasn’t really anger at Clarke, though.  Not completely, anyway.  It was anger at herself.

She was so angry that she had let this happen.  That she had gotten so attached.  That she could not rid herself of thoughts.  During classes, between clients, sitting at the front desk of the gym, ignoring Carli, Lexa’s thoughts wandered to what the blonde might be doing.  Where she was.  If she was finding what she needed.  If she had completely forgotten about Lexa.

And at night…nights were particularly difficult.  Lexa had never been much for touching herself.  Shutting off her feelings for so long meant ignoring any of those needs.  But after Clarke, it seemed that her body would not be denied.  At first she felt annoyed with herself.  She tried to fight it, and would succeed for a day or two.  But then, it would happen, in the dark quiet of her room, she would picture blonde hair splayed across her pillow; warm, pliant skin under her finger tips; breathy moans in her ear; warm, silky wetness surrounding her fingers and covering her tongue.  The ache that would build was too much to ignore.  And she was always shocked at how wet she got, just from picturing a girl who may not even want her anymore.

She always ended up coming  when she pictured Clarke coming.

She tried not to think about what that might mean.

Lexa was startled out of her thoughts when she noticed the classroom around her erupt with a flurry of movement, as her class ended.  She mindlessly gathered her things, shoved them in her bag, and left to head towards the door.

 

* * *

 

  

“Thank god!”

Clarke watched as her two best friends jumped up from their seats in the living room, whooped, and high-fived in front of her.  She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped her lips.

“It’s not that big of a deal.  I’m just going to stop by the gym tomorrow and see if she wants to have lunch.”  Clarke shrugged her shoulders and avoided looking at the girls in front of her.  She could feel their eyes on her.

“You aren’t even going to text her first?”  Clarke would be lying if Octavia’s question had not crossed her mind a time or two.

“I…no.  I want to surprise her.”

“My ass, you want to surprise her.  You’re afraid she will tell you not to come.”

_Curse you, Raven!_

“No…I….”  She couldn’t even really deny it.

Raven just rolled her eyes.  “I don’t blame you, princess.  I mean, I know you were finding yourself, and all that, but you kind of left the girl hanging.”

Clarke sighed.  “I didn’t mean to.  I just didn’t expect things to happen so fast, you know?  I got caught up.  I wanted to stay focused.”

Clarke had found it difficult to leave Lexa in the sculpture garden that day.  So much so, that she had gone back the second she had exited the garden, only to find Lexa had already left.  But, after moping around for a few days, she picked herself up and did what she had set out to do.

Being in the garden, running her hands all over such beautiful art, in such a beautiful place, next to a beautiful girl...it had woken something in her that she had thought was gone, never to return. 

She wanted to create something. 

She felt the curves, and the textures, and the life of the sculptures and she felt a passion she hadn’t felt in so long.  It was visceral and overwhelming, and yet, when she looked at Lexa, it got blurry, replaced by a longing for dark hair and green eyes.  It was confusing.

Because she could only see Lexa.  She wanted to dive into whatever she had with Lexa and ignore this growing desire to do something.  She wanted to drag Lexa back to her bed and spend the day exploring her body like she had explored all of those sculptures.  And never leave the bed.

And maybe it was the fresh story on her tongue, of the catastrophe that was her relationship with Finn…but she recognized the danger in those thoughts.  Clarke knew she was on the edge of something within herself and she had been struggling with how Lexa fit into it.

She knew she had to do it.

She knew she had to take some time.  Get some space.

Even now, she knew it was the right decision.

But it didn’t mean she liked it.

She hated leaving her.  She hated not seeing her.  Not talking to her.

She had found an art program that would take her application, despite how close to the next semester it was.  She couldn't wait. It was in a small fine arts program…nothing spectacular or particularly impressive…but she felt content in a way that she hadn’t in a long time…maybe ever.  She drew, painted, and created things for the first time in a while, in the weeks leading up to her first classes.  Her paintings still usually ended up being trees, and the small cardboard creations she pieced together were all silly and just a way to busy her hands.  But she was excited to learn and to create.  She tried to focus on that. 

Her drawings were always of Lexa.

The longer she waited, the harder it got to call her.  What if she still wasn’t ready?  What if she threw everything, all the progress she made, away the second she saw her?

Even after school began, and she started attending her classes and flying high on the excitement of learning skills and techniques to actually help her hone her creative skills, her art seemed to always remind her of Lexa, even when it wasn't directly about her.  The girl was in her.

She did well with focusing on herself.  She had so many things to think about with school, her shifts at the coffee shop, and setting up her things in the new apartment, it got easier to keep Lexa off her mind.  But her hands did not follow suit.  Her notebooks were filled with her jawline; her eyes; her back. Her hands refused to stop.   And Raven and Octavia had seen it.

“Look, I’m so proud of everything you’ve done in the past couple of months.  You’ve been kicking this art stuff’s ass and you have actually looked…well, happy and calm…but it’s been a while.  I just…you may need to ease her into it.”

Octavia looked nervous as she spoke.  Clarke narrowed her eyes.  “What do you know, O?”

“What do you mean?”

“Leave her alone, Clarke!  She just means that, you know, you told her that it would be a few weeks and, well…that was 3 months ago.  Who knows how she’s taken that?”

Clarke’s eyes darted between the two girls who were seated once again.  Octavia still looked like she was hiding something, and Raven might have been, too, but she was a much better liar.

_This is what I get for actually talking to people about my life again._

Among other things that had changed in the last few months was her relationship with her best friends.  She had spent so long on her own that she had been worried about having friends again and opening up, but it turned out that it came naturally to her with both of them.  Probably because they had both been there at other points in her life.  They supported her and she talked to them about…well, everything.  It was something she hadn’t done in a while.  Sharing herself was something she had to relearn, but she wasn’t sure she would have made it through the last few months without them.  And it had, surprisingly, made her much more comfortable at talking to people in general.  She didn't feel as awkward and anxious around strangers anymore.  The whole friends thing...It was mostly good.

Until they called her on her bullshit. 

She was still adjusting to that.

She breathed out, admitting defeat.  “Maybe you’re right.”

Octavia seemed to relax a little.  “Just…call her.  Or text her first, Clarke.  I’m sure she would be happy to hear from you.  But just showing up might not be the best.”

Clarke thought about it for a moment.  It made her nervous.  What was she supposed to say? 

_Hey, I’m all sorted.  Wanna start things up again?_

_Hey, whatcha been doing for the past three months after I slept with you and then bailed?_

_Hey, finished my selfish soul-searching?  Wanna makeout?_

Clarke sighed and felt completely at a loss, until an idea struck her.

“Hey, Raven?”  She put on her sweetest voice, letting Raven know that she was about to ask for something, but also that it would be something that Raven would almost definitely enjoy.

Raven looked deeply skeptical.  “Yes Clarke?”

“Remember how I wouldn’t let you throw that housewarming party a few months back because I was a shitty emotional mess, and you so generously agreed?”

“Maybe…” Clarke could tell Raven’s interest was piqued.

“Well, what do you say we get the ball rolling on that again?”

Clarke endured Raven’s glare until it quickly shifted into a full blown, shit-eating grin.  “Dam nit, Princess.  I know you are using this as an excuse to alleviate your awkward situation, but I don’t even care.  Hell yeah, we can have a party!”

Clarke grinned, satisfied, momentarily, that she might be able to form a plan to reengage things with Lexa.

 

* * *

 

**Unknown: Hey Lex.  How are you?**

Lexa gave her phone a confused stare for a few moments, before wracking her brain as to who could be texting her.  She hadn’t given her number out to anyone new lately, but she didn’t want to be rude to anyone whose number she was supposed to have.  She decided it was best to just be honest.

**Lexa: Who is this?**

She stared at the screen for a few minutes, watching the (…) come up, indicating the other person was typing, before it went away again.  It happened several more times, until Lexa got tired of watching and went back to her text book.

A few minutes later, she felt her phone vibrate a few times, but she ignored it, trying to finish the chapter.  When she was done, she checked her phone again.  Her heart dropped as soon as she unlocked the screen.

**Unknown: It’s Clarke.**

**Unknown: Sorry, I should have not assumed you would still have my number.**

**Unknown:  Just wanted to tell you about a party at our apartment on Saturday night.  I was hoping you could make it.  If not that’s cool too.**

**Unknown:  Just wanted to check.**

**Unknown: and say hello.**

**Unknown: Hello.**

**Unknown: Hope to see you then.**

Lexa stared at the screen for what felt like 10 minutes.  She couldn’t move.  Too many things were running through her mind.

Clarke had texted her.  Clarke had invited her to a party.  Clarke was clearly nervously rambling through text.

_It was cute._

_NO! She bailed on you.  Not cute._

Lexa shook her head.  Logically, she knew Clarke had been out of contact for very responsible reasons.  Very mature reasons.  But Lexa’s heart had been a little bit shattered.  She wasn’t sure how to deal with honest and responsible communication when it still hurt her so badly.  Her head and her heart were struggling to make sense of it.  And also…

_Why isn’t Clarke’s number in my phone?_

“ANYAAA!”

She heard footsteps coming down the hall and a voice not long after that.

“Jesus, Lexa.  What?”  She watched as Anya became visible in the doorway of her bedroom.

“I told you not to go through my phone!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”  Her face was stone, but Lexa wasn’t fooled.

“You erased Clarke’s number.  I know it was you.  No one else would do that.”

To Lexa’s surprise, Anya quickly stopped denying, shrugging out her admission instead.

“You were moping around for so long.  I figured when you finally broke down and tried to contact her, I would take away the temptation.  You’re welcome.”

“Fuck you, An!  I didn’t try to contact her, she texted me, and now she thinks I have forgotten about her.  I can’t believe you!”

Anya laughed, infuriating Lexa further.  “Oh, that is priceless.  Lex, that’s perfect!  Serves her right!  What did she say?”  Suddenly, Anya sprang through the door, completely ignoring Lexa’s fury and acting like a teenage girl, flopping down on the bed.

“I…you…”  Lexa’s anger was dueling with the part of her brain that really wanted to discuss this new development.  She knew which side would win.

“She invited me to a party this weekend.  Saturday.  At her apartment.”

“Oh, yeah, Lincoln told me about that.  So, we going?”

“Lincoln told you?  When?”

“Two days ago, and technically, it was Octavia.  And it was less of an invitation and more of a ‘you’re definitely expected’ kind of thing.”

“Two days ago?”  Lexa was not sure what she was thinking or feeling.  Her brain did not seem to be firing correctly since she read Clarke’s name on her phone.  Was she mad that she was invited after everyone else?  Was she annoyed that Lincoln knew and didn’t tell her?  Was she just freaking the fuck out because Clarke was officially talking to her again?

She must have been too still for too long.

“Lex, you okay there?  Look, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to…do you want to?”

“I…I don’t know.  I think so…yes.  But…”  _What if she has changed her mind?  What if this is how she is going to let me down easy?  Should I even want her to change her mind?  Does that make me totally and completely whipped?_

“Lexa, hey…what’s up?”  Anya is looking at her with such concern, it brings her out of her haze.

“Am I an idiot for still wanting her?”  Lexa hated that her voice sounded so small and weak.

Anya’s eyes softened and she chuckled lightly.  “Kind of…but, look, I know I’ve been harsh about Clarke because, honestly, I thought her reasoning, while somewhat mature, or whatever, was kind of weak and…you have been…well…hard to fucking watch, to be honest, with all your moping and sad eyes and general lovelorn attitude, and I hate to see you like that, but…she makes you happy.  She may be a total bitch…” Lexa could not help but bristle at this, “but you aren’t an idiot for wanting her.  She’s kind of good for you….if she’s not being a selfish asshole.”

“She’s not an asshole.”  Lexa pauses.  “Will you come with me?”

“I guess I could be persuaded.”  Her look was too casual and Lexa realized why in the next second.  “Hey, don’t Clarke and Octavia live with that other girl…what’s her name?”

Lexa was positive that Anya knew Raven’s name, but because she was being so nice, she decided to let it slide.

“You mean Raven?”

“Yeah, Raven…that’s it.  Just curious.  Should be an interesting party.”  And she sauntered out of the room.

Lexa couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer.  She chuckled to herself for a few minutes, before stopping abruptly, realizing that she never responded to Clarke’s message.

_I don’t think I will just yet._

* * *

 

Clarke sipped on her drink as she stood between Monty and Jasper, the only two people from work that she would call friends, near her kitchen.  The party was in full swing and, aside from Monty, Jasper, Bellamy, Raven and Octavia, she had no clue who any of the people in her apartment were.  She recognized certain faces, knew a few names, but they were mostly friends of Raven and Octavia.  In the back of her mind, she was tempted to let the sadness of that fact overtake her, but then Jasper choked on his drink when a girl spoke to him, embarrassing himself royally and she laughed with Monty, and the feeling passed. 

This kind of thing happened more often lately; a dark feeling dissipating because of the people around her.  Having resisted it for so long, she had been surprised how much surrounding herself with people she cared about had actually helped her.  It was nice.

Suddenly, she saw Octavia dart by on her way to the front door, and launch herself at the tall form of her boyfriend, wrapping her legs around him.  They embraced for a moment, spinning around, being disgustingly unaware of everyone around them, before Lincoln set her down, and Clarke began to notice the group of familiar faces behind him.  Echo and a smaller, dark haired girl (Clarke thinks is named Emory or Emily, or something) were already chatting up Bellamy and his friend near the door.  Anya was with Ontari, a tall, fit blonde woman, and a very dour looking guy with longer hair.  They were scoping out the party more quietly, looking intimidating and borderline unapproachable.  Coming through the door behind them was the person she’d been hesitant to hope for.

Lexa looked beautiful, as usual, in a pair of snuggly fit skinny jeans and a forest green Henley with the sleeves rolled up.  Her hair was down, looking simultaneously casual and flawless.  Clarke wanted to run to her; to wrap her arms around her and feel her lips on her own.  Suddenly Lexa’s eyes found hers and Clarke was stuck.  She missed her.  She hadn’t even realized how much until right then.

But Lexa looked away without any sort of reaction, and if Clarke hadn’t been so shaken by the short-lived eye contact, she might assume she imagined it.

_She didn’t even respond to my message.  She might not even want to be here._

_Then why would she be?  Go!  Talk to her!_

She battled with herself for a few moments, watching Lexa closely.  Raven found her way over to the newly arrived group and turned on the Reyes charm, honing in on Anya quickly.  Raven led them towards the kitchen, most likely for drinks.  Clarke walked away in the middle of Jasper’s sentence and put herself in their path.  In Lexa’s path.  The stone-faced guy, Ontari, and the attractive blonde passed by Clarke, and explored the drink options on their own.

Suddenly, Clarke’s breathing became labored, and before she knew it, she was speaking.

“Lexa!  Hey! Hi.  I’m glad you came, I wasn’t sure…I mean.  You look…great.  Good, I mean.  I, uh.”  _Stop, oh my god._ “Hi,” Clarke finished lamely.

Lexa nodded and gave a tight lipped smile, though Clarke could see amusement in her eyes.  “Hi Clarke.”

She felt indescribable relief at the sound of her voice.

“Clarke.”

She shivered under the curt nod and icy stare of Anya, feeling a threat behind the eyes.  Luckily, Raven has excellent timing.

“Here you are ladies!  One honey whiskey and water and one tequila and sprite…I like your style.”  Raven winked at Anya as she handed her the drink.

“An, that is disgusting.  Why don’t you just shoot tequila like a normal person?”

“Fuck you.  Don’t judge my tequila, I won’t judge you’re fake-ass whiskey.”

“It’s not fake just because it’s got some honey flavor, thank you very much.  And it’s delicious.”

“I agree.”  Clarke’s heart fluttered as Lexa flashed her a small, but grateful smile.

“Well, I, for one, am always a fan of tequila.  Makes any party just a little bit more interesting.”  Raven was not being subtle with her intense eye contact, but Anya didn’t seem to be against it.  Soon enough they were chatting lowly, leaning closer together, thankfully distracting Anya from her former activity of trying to melt Clarke with her eyes.

“So, how are you?”  Clarke isn’t sure what else to say, but she desperately wants to know the answer to that question.

“I’m good.”  Lexa nods her head to reinforce her statement, but doesn’t say much more.  It’s awkward and Clarke aches when she remembers that it had never been awkward with Lexa before.  Just as she is about to speak again, she hears a shout across the room.

“Commander!  You’re with me for beer pong!”  Lexa rolls her eyes, looking somewhat apologetically at Clarke, before crossing the room to where Echo is standing across the table from Bellamy and thin red-head girl that Clarke recognizes from the bar.  _Fox, maybe?_

Clarke’s chest aches as Lexa walks away.  She finds a piece of wall to lean against, and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she is watching Lexa, as she sorts through her thoughts.

It used to be so easy.  Even when they first met.  There were nerves and uncertain words and looks, but they never pretended.  They never really held back very much.  And now Clarke felt as if she had fucked everything up.

Had she?  Should she not have done what she did?

She had succeeded in growing from her time alone.  In 3 short months, she had accomplished more than she thought possible.  A year ago…hell, even 6 months ago, she would have been far too terrified to make the decision to commit to studying art.  She would have heard her mother’s voice saying “Are you being realistic, Clarke?” or “I really want you to think about your future.”  And she would have thought of her dad, and the fact that he may have supported her, but he wasn’t here anymore.  And she would have thought of Finn and wondered if every negative thing he ever told her about herself was right.  And she would have failed.

But then…then she met Lexa.  And, suddenly, terrifyingly quickly, she saw herself through those intense green eyes, and her doubts started to fade.  She wasn’t as afraid of failure because, somewhere in the world, there was this girl who thought she was amazing…and if someone as wonderful as Lexa saw Clarke that way…then maybe she needed to reevaluate how she saw herself.  And maybe failure was okay.  Maybe Clarke was okay.

She was struggling with this.  With the idea that Lexa made her want to be better, and yet, somehow, by doing just that, she may have lost her.  Maybe Lexa had moved on.  Maybe Clarke had waited too long.  Maybe it was a blazing, wonderful few weeks that they had, and that is all it would ever be. 

Clarke had a heavy feeling in her chest.  Because she knew, somehow, that she would be okay.  She had been trying to get to that point for so long, and it was so bittersweet because she knew, now, that she didn’t need Lexa to be okay.

But she wanted her.  God, did she want her.

“Hey.”

Clarke tore her eyes away from a smiling Lexa, taking her shot at the beer pong table, and turned her head towards a soft voice.  It was the blonde girl that was skulking around with Ontari and that angry looking guy.

“Uh, hi.”

The girl smiled, and Clarke couldn’t deny that she was quite pretty.  Her eyes were very warm and genuine.  Clarke couldn’t help but smile back. 

“I think I’ve seen you at the gym.  I’m Niylah.”  The girl extended her hand.

Clarke shook it, and noticed the way Niylah softly gripped back.  She was searching Clarke’s face, looking at her through her eye-lashes, and Clarke was somewhat surprised for a moment, even flattered, to realize that, if she was reading the signs correctly, Niylah was into her.

“Nice to meet you Niylah.  My name is Clarke.”

As the girl released her hand, she subtly ghosted her fingers over Clarke’s palm.

“Clarke.  Cool name.  So, how are you connected to this party?”

“I live here actually.  With Raven,” she points to Raven, who is now sitting very close to Anya on the couch talking, “and Octavia.” She points out Octavia, who is laughing loudly with Lincoln and Harper, one of her friends from work.

“Ah, I see.  Don’t take this the wrong way but…do you guys just get hit on everywhere you go?”

Clarke can’t help but laugh, especially when she sees the red tint on Niylah’s face, like she hadn’t meant to say it.

“I’m sorry, I just meant…all of you are very attractive….I mean….” The girl was getting flustered and Clarke was actually finding it all very amusing.  It was rare for her to be the calm and collected one in this kind of interaction.

“Its okay, Niylah.  I understand.  Thank you.”  Clarke had reached out to calm the girl, lightly touching her arm, and suddenly the light flirting became too real.  Suddenly she felt guilt.  She pulled her hand back and her eyes automatically shot over to Lexa.

Lexa’s eyes were on her, and Clarke could see her jaw flexing, even from across the room.  Clarke tried not to think about how sexy it was. Echo began to speak loudly in Lexa's ear, and pulled her focus back to the game.

“Would you like another drink, Clarke?  It looks like you’re empty.”

Clarke was torn.  Lexa looked, dare she think it, jealous, and she didn’t want her to think she had moved on.  But she didn’t want to stand around, alone, moping about the fact that Lexa did not seem to want to talk to her.  She could make a new friend.  She spotted Jasper and Monty, chatting in the kitchen.

“Sure, let go grab one.”

They made their way to the kitchen, Clarke grabbing herself a drink, and they began to talk with Jasper and Monty about stupid, easy things.  She loved their easy banter, and Niylah was nice enough and easy to talk to.  Maybe the party would turn out okay, after all.

 

* * *

 

This party was an awful idea.

After beating Bellamy at a game of beer pong, which was, admittedly, satisfying, Lexa lost the next one to Raven and Anya, and was now slightly drunk and could not seem to look away from Clarke from her seat on the couch.  Clarke, who had been sticking close to Niylah all evening.  They had been conversing with two guys that Lexa recognized from Clarke’s coffee shop for a while now, but Lexa had seen Clarke touch her arm earlier, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off of them for very long after that.  Niylah was clearly into her, but, to Lexa's relief, Clarke had not been giving many signs that the feeling was mutual. 

_This is ridiculous.  This obsession probably cost me that game.  I hate losing to Anya._

She was starting to wish she hadn’t been so guarded when she arrived.  Then maybe Clarke wouldn’t have felt the need to talk to anyone else.  She would be talking to Lexa.  But she couldn’t help it.  Her heart hadn’t been ready.

“You should probably go and talk to her.”

Lexa was startled out of her thoughts by the voice.

“I…who?”

“Ah, so you’re either in denial or really stubborn.  I see.  I can dig it.”  The girl, who had made herself at home on the couch next to Lexa, without any sort of invitation, was looking her over with sharp blue eyes.  She had dark hair and pale skin and she seemed a little too observant for Lexa's taste.  

“And you are?”

“Charlie.  I’m a friend of Clarke’s actually, though I think she forgot that she invited me.” 

This gets Lexa’s attention.  “You’re a friend of Clarke’s?  I don’t recognize you from the coffee shop.”

“It would be weird if you did.  I don’t spend much time in coffee shops.  More of a tea girl, myself.  No, I go to school with Clarke.”

Lexa is becoming more and more surprised every second.  She tries to play it cool.

“What do you study?”

“Well…art, obviously.  Mostly paint and charcoal.”

Lexa is trying to store all of the information.  _Clarke is going to school.  For art._

Lexa feels a surge of pride.

“How is she doing?” she says, before she can stop herself.  _Damn you whiskey!_

Charlie, mercifully, doesn’t comment on the question with more than a knowing grin, before answering.

“She’s kind of amazing.  Really unsure of herself at first, but she’s got skill.  That’s how I recognized you actually.  She likes charcoal, and she seems to draw someone who looks an awfully lot like you quite a bit.” 

Lexa feels her face turn red, as a simmering heat fills her chest.   “She…she draws me?”  Lexa hadn’t meant to say it, but she can’t seem to care at the moment.  She feels indescribably light all of the sudden. 

She glances over at Clarke and sees her sending furtive glances their way, every so often, seeming to realize who Charlie is.  Suddenly, Lexa’s whole body is warm as she watches Clarke excuse herself from her companions and make her way towards the couch.

“Charlie?  Hey!  I didn’t realize you were going to make it?  I thought you had that exhibit thing?”

Charlie smiles brightly and stands to give Clarke a hug.  It’s all so surreal for Lexa.  In the short time she has known Clarke, she had found her to be very reserved around most people that she didn’t know very well, and she knew that Clarke found it difficult to make friends.  Yet, here Clarke was, talking easily with this beautiful, mysterious artist whom she apparently befriended, after managing Niylah flirting with her without so much as batting an eye lash.  She tunes back into the conversation occurring in front of her.

“It’s totally fine, Clarke.  I was just chatting with your friend here.  We were talking about some of your art.” 

Lexa watches as Clarke’s eyes go wide, before she looks between Lexa and Charlie, and her cheeks become pink.

“Anyway, it looks like I’m up in beer pong.  My partner is a bit hard to read.  What’s his deal?”  Lexa looks at where she is pointing and chuckles.

“That’s Roan.  He’s kind of an ass, but he’s a solid partner.  Good luck.”

“You too, Charcoal Girl.” She winks, and walks towards the table.

“Oh my god.”  Clarke says it under her breath, but Lexa hears it clearly.  She is becoming slightly obsessed with the way the tips of Clarke’s ears are turning pink.

“So…art school?”

“I, uh…yeah.  Yeah, I just started but I…its….I love it.”  She seems almost relieved to say it, and it makes something in Lexa melt.  “Can I…do you mind if I sit?”

“No, please do.”

They sit in silence for a moment, before Lexa decides to break the ice.

“So…a little birdy told me that you draw me?”

Lexa watches the pink fade to red up Clarke’s neck as a small smirk crosses Clarke’s face.

“Well, yeah….I mean, have you seen you?”

Lexa wasn’t expecting this and she feels her own face grow hot as Clarke continues.

“And, well, I think...I just had to.  I missed you.”

Lexa feels her heart beat quicken and she glances up to see Clarke watching her.  _I guess now is as good a time as any to do this._

“I thought it was only going to be a few weeks.”  Her voice is surprisingly steady.

“It was supposed to be.  I wanted to call.  But everything was going so well and, I really love it.  I got so focused and I got a little freaked out that…I don’t know…maybe it was too much…good.  It went really well, getting into school and starting it.  And I’ve been hanging out with Ray and O and, I don’t know, I started to feel whole again.  Its been so long. I started to be okay with myself, quicker than I thought I would.  And I feel like I wouldn’t have been able to take the steps I needed without you, but I thought maybe I lost my chance.  That everything was going too well to have you, on top of everything else.”

Clarke stops talking abruptly, searching Lexa’s reaction.

“I’m glad you are happy, Clarke.  I’m really proud of you.”

Its the truth and Lexa feels like she has to say it. Clarke’s smile is radiant, and she feels blinded by it.

“Thanks.”

They sit in silence again.  It’s slightly more comfortable this time, but it seems full of the questions Lexa won’t ask.  Lexa isn’t sure where to go from here.  She thinks that only time can change things.  Because what else can be said, that hasn't been said already?

“Lexa.  I'm pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

_Oh._

“Oh.”

_Well, there’s that…_

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while. Getting a full time job that I love is awesome, but it is mentally and emotionally draining, which cuts into some of my writing time. But things are leveling out and hopefully it will not be quite as long until the next one.
> 
> I always slightly regret my inability to maintain a slow burn, so I think this is my attempt at a redo. Sorry!
> 
> Please leave comments, they make me want to write more chapters and they make my day a little better!


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